


Enchanted

by ClassyNerd



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Archery, Bittersweet, Dalish, Elvish, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Nugs!, Other, Protective Siblings, Questioning Beliefs, Slow Build, Spoilers, rogue - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 58,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3660564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyNerd/pseuds/ClassyNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not supposed to happen this way. None of this should have happened, yet both of them let it. And now they had to face the consequences.<br/>The story of Solas and Eowyn Lavellan, from both their perspectives. Spoilers ahead, just to warn you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road Before You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Few can foresee whither their road will lead them, till they come to its end.

Dawn peaked on the horizon, the sky lighting up above the trees and swirling clouds, gently waking the Dalish from their slumber. Eowyn stretched on her pallet, a fur blanket tucked beneath her arms. Her golden hair draped about her head as she slowly awakened to the days that would change the course of the world.

"Eowyn! It's time." Keeper Deshanna's hushed voice bade her pale blue eyes open to the aravel.

Quietly she slipped from the covers, careful not to disturb her little brother Tamel from his peaceful slumber; his black hair tousled over his closed eyelids in that particular way of his. She tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes before slipping into her leather armor, a black breast plate with a grey cloak to hang about her shoulders. Softly she placed a kiss on Tamel's forehead. It may be a long time before she had the opportunity to do so again. Whispering a prayer to Mythal to protect him, she stood above him as if to memorize his face, a feeling of foreboding coming upon her suddenly from the dark. _What if something happened?_ If something happened to her, who'd look after him? But the road lay ahead, and she must travel it's paths wherever they may take her. "May Andruil guide me, and Mythal protect me." As her voice rose in prayer, a calm settled over her like a soft blanket, welcoming whatever was to come.

"Dareth shiral da'len." She whispered before grabbing her bow and a pack of supplies lying next to her pile of furs. Lifting the flap to the aravel, she stepped out into the cold morning air, her breath coming out in whirling puffs of smoke. The coldness awoke her, and her heart stirred within as the finality of what she was about to do settled upon her.

"Are you ready, da'len?" Keeper Deshanna asked standing before her, holding a long staff between her thin fingers, delicate swirling patterns carved into it's smooth oak. The pale morning light shone off her hair that was pulled into a knot above her head, and furs covered her shoulders and arms to ward off the chill air.

"Yes." Her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of her journey ahead, for it would be the first time she would be separated from her clan. She twirled a piece of hair round her finger.

Tethera ran lithely across the fallen snow to them as it crunched beneath her leather boots, her red curls a tangled mass and a bow in her hand. She came to them breathless, green eyes flashing with an unquenchable fire. The green cloak tied across her throat swished in the wind as she came to a stop, and a frown was cast across her face as she stared hard at Eowyn.

"Hama told me you were leaving this morning, so I came as fast as I could." She panted heavily. "I still can't believe your going without me," her lips formed a pout as she crossed her arms.

"I told you, we only want one person going to the Conclave, it's risky enough as it is. All we need to find out is if this war will end." The Keeper chided her with a click of her tongue, as if they were still the young da'len that had yet to learn their lesson. Tethera rolled her eyes at the Keeper.

Eowyn lightly chuckled at her friend, who was always her hunting partner in the past. They were inseparable-they had even lived in the same aravel for a while, when her parents had fallen to the mage and templar war ten months past. Her brow furrowed at the memory, but she shoved it out of her mind when she looked at her brooding friend with a grin.

"I'll be back within the week, just look after Tamel for me." She reassured her friend, knowing how much she desired to accompany her.

"Don't worry, he can stay with me while your gone. At least let me ride with you to the edge of the forest."

"Wait!" Eowyn cried as she stepped forward, grabbing her arm to stop her before she ran away to grab the harts. When she was a child, she tried riding a hart and fell off, breaking a leg and swearing she would never ride one again. To do so now when she could just as easily walk on foot was ludicrous in her eyes.

"What? Is this about the hart thingy you have such a hard time with?" Tethera rolled her eyes. "You going to try to _walk_ there the whole way?"

"It's not that far. And I have to board a ship to cross the Waking Sea." She reasoned, letting go of her arm.

"Fine, let me _walk_ with you to the edge of the forest."

"Be safe da'len." Keeper Deshanna cautioned, interrupting the friendly scuff before it burst forth, "we already lost people to this war. We cannot afford to lose you as well, so don't take any unnecessary risks."

Eowyn gave her a hug, "You sound like my Mamae. Don't worry, I'll be safe. They'll never even know I was there. Which is one reason why it's better to _walk_." She cast a pointed glance at her friend who smiled smugly at her behest.

"I know. It's why you were chosen to go. Dareth shiral da'len, may the Dread Wolf never catch your scent."

"Dareth shiral, Keeper." And the words echoed in the silence as the hammer falls in final judgment at court, even to her own ears it felt permanent. But she shrugged off the notion, wasn't it normal that her nerves should be on edge in a time like this?

"Come on, the sun's rising. If we go now, we can make it to the top of the hill to see it finish before you go." Tethera tugged on her arm. They walked further into the forest, but not before a small voice cried out.  
"Eowyn! Wait for me!" Turning round they saw her little brother running towards them, his face twisted with worry.

"Tamel! Your supposed to be asleep!" She scolded when he got close, getting down on one knee to catch him in her arms. He ran into them, almost making them both fall backwards in a heap.

"Whoa there." Eowyn smiled as she looked into her little brothers worried face.

"I don't need sleep, I'm gonna be a hunter like you when I grow bigger." He boasted, though his eyes looked terrified at the thought of losing her, though it be for a few weeks.

"Yes you are, and I'm sure you'll be the biggest hunter ever." She said smiling at him, pushing locks of hair back from his dark eyes that were shaded just like her fathers.

He hugged her tightly, his small arms wrapping around her neck. She held him close, silently dreading the thought of saying goodbye to him and leaving him alone. _We need this. I need to do this,_ she reassured herself. If only her parents were here to watch over him . . . but no, Tethera could watch over him and he'd be just fine. After a moment she looked into her friend's eyes which told her silently they had to get moving. Taking her arms from around his waist, she gently unwound his arms from about her neck, holding his hands in hers and giving a gentle squeeze.

"I need to go ma'fen, but I promise you this: I'll be home before the snow melts."

His eyes were large, yet resigned to their fate. "Okay. Will you bring me back a bow?"

"You already have one."

"But I mean . . . one like you have, a big one that can kill bad things."

She laughed and tousled his hair, "Alright. And we'll go hunting as soon as I get back."

A big grin stole his pout from a moment earlier, "Really?"

"Yes! Now I need to get going, the dawn's almost come. Go back to the Keeper. Be safe."

"Okay, bye."

He gave her one last quick hug, then smiled widely at her before running back to camp. She stood watching him until he made it safely into the confines of camp, her throat dry.

"He'll be fine. Keeper and I will look after him." Tethera spoke as if echoing her own thoughts and doubts.

"Yes." She answered distractedly before turning to leave.

About a half hour later they came to a rise where the trees cleared into fields covered with sparkling snow. It was almost blinding. The sun rose on the horizon with all it's glory and pride, showing the world another day had come. White clouds cleared the sky, the night letting go of the earth. Eowyn and Tethera stood there silent, hesitant to say their own goodbyes. None of them had ever left the Dalish before, and this was the first time they would be without each other. After what felt like a millennium Eowyn regretfully turned to Tethera.

"Goodbye, I should be on my way. Dareth Shiral, my friend." They hugged tightly for a moment, each knowing each had to start walking her own path.

"Don't sound so melodramatic. You'll be back in no time. Dareth Shiral." She said and hurried down the path from whence they came, not looking back.

Eowyn sighed as she watched her go, then looked down her own path and started walking the road alone. 

                                                                                                      ~*~

After a weeks worth of walking, she arrived at the docks, waves gently lapping at the seashore. She stared across the sea in wonder, the blue surf captivating her in words she could not express. Never before had she traveled to the sea, never before had she seen so much water in one place. If only Tamel and Tethera were here! When she returned she must take them to visit the seashore. Sighing, she tossed a bag of silver to the ship keeper. She boarded a ship with white sails that fluttered in the wind, and she stared at them in awe; almost tripping over the edge of the ship railing when she boarded.

"Welcome aboard," a ruff looking seaman said, giving her a crooked smile that revealed missing teeth. She almost forgot to answer while staring at him, fascinated, before she replied hastily. "Thank you," scurrying by him without another glance.

Shemlens filtered on behind her, and she instinctively pulled away from the group. She pulled her hood over her head to avoid the stares of the curious, hand ready to grab her dagger should the need arise. Walking towards the ships bow, she placed her hands on the railing, running them along the smooth surface. The ship lurched forward suddenly, and she caught herself with a laugh. Shaking off her hood, she stared out into the water as the ship slowly gained speed, waves rippling across the still waters. Smiling, she forgot all about her homesickness, her task, filled only with thoughts of the now. Stepping onto the bottom part of the railing, she lifted herself up, holding onto a rope that was tied to the ship. The wind whipped her hair back from her face, stinging her skin with a cool sensation. Dawn rose on the horizon, casting golden sparks across the still sea.

Two weeks passed, huddled in the hold below and coming up for fresh air when it was possible. Finally the cliffs of Fereldan came into view, and she stood at the bow of the ship again, ready to greet her homeland. She had been born there, though her clan moved when she was still a small child. No memories remained of her homeland, though plenty were to come. Docking at a small trading port, she began her journey again with haste.  
After a weeks worth of walking, she arrived in the Frostback mountains. Cold wind blew down the northern mountains, causing her to pull her grey cloak closer about her as her teeth chattered. Snowflakes gently fell from the sky, peppering her clothing. Hours passed as she wandered the trails, climbing ever higher into the heavens above, clouds resting about it's paths. Reaching the top of one mountain she looked down upon her path, and the whole world was stretched out before her eyes. Snowy capped mountains stood about, rivers flowing through the valleys, nature just about ready to burst into spring. A smile caressed her lips, to think, that she would ever stand on the top of the world! Such beauty she had never seen during her life.

But her task was forward, so on she tread.

A great building loomed ahead, stoic stone peering down upon all mortals. The temple of Sacred Ashes. She cut her way behind the troops of templars and mages, who regarded each other with watchful eyes.  
Pulling her hood over her head, she tightened her cloak about her shoulders, mingling with the travelers who were clothed as she. Passing her way into the crowd, the gate ahead, she managed to make it without suspicion and let go of the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Cold stone rose up on either side of her as she entered the building, her palms clammy despite the chill. Rubbing her gloved palms together, she cast her eyes about casually, noting the templars on the right, mages on the left, and a woman talking with a group of people at it's center. Guards were stationed throughout the long hall, making her feel more like a caged animal. Biting on her lip, she strained her pointed ears to hear what the woman was saying.

"We need to stop this! How many innocents have died at the hand of both mage and templar?" the woman cried, to protests all around her. Perhaps things were going well after all, seeing as they hadn't killed each other yet. All though, how long could this go on with no blood being spilled? Each side seemed too eager to cast blame upon the other.

Moving on the outskirts of the crowd, she found a door opening to a dark and desolate corridor. She slipped inside without notice. Walking quietly down it, she wandered till coming upon a door that had a lock. Pulling out a pair of picks, she looked about before kneeling before it, tossing aside her gloves and working on the lock. Gentle clicking sounds filled the hallway before the door gave way with a creak, showing a ladder at the end. Smiling at herself, she put the picks away, put on her nugskin gloves, and pulled the door shut behind her. She put one foot on the rickety ladder, and gingerly placed her weight on it to test it's strength. When nothing gave way, she climbed quickly up it's rungs and came upon a dark loft that overlooked the main hall. Dust covered the floor where she placed her hands on it to heave herself up from the ladder, and a mouse ran away squeaking when her head peeked out. Grunting, she pulled herself up.

"I agree with the Divine. We need to have peace." A deep man's voice echoed throughout the hall, and she gingerly walked to the edge of the railing to peer on those below. Surprise filled her to see the man was a templar knight dressed in shining armor.

Voices rose up and seconds passed into minutes and minutes unto hours. She had to suppress a yawn and the urge to yell at the people to make up their minds.

And then an explosion cast the world into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is from J.R.R Tolkien. Hope you guys enjoyed it! This is the first time I've written on here.  
> Oh, and here's a translation of some of the elvish I used.  
> Ma'fen-My wolf.  
> Dareth Shiral-Safe Journey.  
> Da'len-Little Child.


	2. Scintilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ch is told from Solas' pov.

_~Already she seemed to him, as by men of later days Elves still at times are seen: present and yet remote, a living vision of that which has already been left far behind by the flowing streams of Time.~_

 

He laid down in a little niche hidden in the rocks; glad to have rest from his travels, his limbs heavy and weary from no rest. For weeks he had been traveling towards the Frostback mountains, for there had been a rumor that Corypheus was heading there. For what, he did not know, only that he intended to find out and get his orb back. Leaning his head back against a rock, his grey eyes slowly closed, heavy with slumber. A few hours passed in this manner, until his peaceful sleep was interrupted by a loud boom echoing across the valley. The ground shook, mountains trembling and rocks slipping off the cliffs into the valleys below. Grabbing his staff he jumped to his feet, only to look towards where the Conclave was, the sky torn above it, igniting a path of flame and smoke below. And then just as suddenly, the trembling stopped. His jaw set and the cleft on his chin stood out all the more as he gripped his staff tighter and gathered his pack; grey eyes steeled with determination as he began his journey up the mountain.

The Sky was torn, a breach of swirling green and demons falling from the sky.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       ~*~

It had to be Corypheus, only his orb could have done this. The rifts would not close, he did not have the power necessary to do so. How a Tevinter mage became so powerful eluded him. If it was him. Could some other great power have taken hold of it? Such thoughts wound through his mind, in a swirl of endless mayhem. Answers could not be found here. The village of Haven was not far off. Perhaps if he helped them it would give him more opportunity to study the rifts.

Walking upon the snow ridden trails to the village's gates, two guards stood at the entrance. They watched him carefully as he approached, stopping him at the gate with a bellowing "halt!"

"Who are you?" a guardswoman asked with a searching gaze. He was sure he looked like some homeless wanderer, unworthy of great notice.

"I am Solas. I came to help with these rifts." He spoke with authority, as if he had every right to be there.

"Then you should talk to Cassandra Pentaghast." The other guardsman said, inclining his head to the village. Cassandra Pentaghast, a Seeker he'd heard of in the past. One of the guards led him further into the village whilst the other stayed at the gate. Small buildings peppered the area, along with hundreds of tents pitched up outside it's walls. Snowflakes gently fell from the sky, and above the breach shone. "Seeker Pentaghast," the soldier spoke with respect as they approached a woman arrayed in armor with short brown hair. "Yes," she said turning. "This man says he came to help with these rifts, so I brought him to speak with you." The Seeker looked him over with a distrustful gaze, and he knew that the staff in his hands did not escape her notice. Bowing, the guardswoman left them and returned to the gates.

"Who are you?"

"Solas." He leaned upon his staff and looked her straight in the eye.

"Do you know what caused these rifts?"

"The explosion."

"Everyone at the Conclave is dead, and that explosion caused the breach in the sky." Her voice wavered with various emotions, ranging from sadness to anger all at once. Dark eyes shifted towards the sky above them. Soldiers ran in ordered chaos about them. Looking back at him she continued, "and there was a survivor. An elven woman who has yet to awaken, bearing a mark that is connected with the breach." His ears perked up as he listened. An only survivor bearing a mark connected to the Fade? Surely there'd been no such case in the history of the world.

"Perhaps I could help," he said, hiding his eagerness behind a neutral face.

"How?"

"I have spent years studying the Fade. Perhaps there is something I know that could be of use."

Her brows knitted as if in consideration, and she looked as if she wanted to refuse his offer. Until a woman with a hood covering her head joined them, piercing eyes studying him from beneath.

"If you have spent years studying the Fade, perhaps you could help us."

"Leliana . . ." Cassandra began.

"You are a mage, correct?" Leliana asked, still studying him. He ignored it and answered her question.

"Yes."

"Leliana, we do not even know who he is." Cassandra chastised, a frown written upon her face.

"He told just told you, did he not?" Spoke the other, stepping closer to him before she continued. "If he truly knows as much about the Fade as he claims, he may prove it himself. After all, we have no mages here at the moment. All were killed in the explosion. We _need_ the prisoner to survive Cassandra.” And she turned her piercing eyes upon the Seeker. Cassandra sighed, "Your right." She then turned her gaze to Solas, "on one condition: you submit your staff to the chantry." He disliked the thought of parting with his staff, but he knew more ways to defend himself should the need arise.

“I accept your conditions,” he said as he held out the staff to Cassandra. After yelling for a soldier to come, a dwarven woman ran up and saluted her. "Take this to the armory." Cassandra said, handing the staff to the woman. Running off the woman did as she was commanded. Cassandra turned back to Solas. "Come with me," she said, and turning about walked further into the fortress. A tall building loomed overhead, and pulling the heavy wooden doors open they walked down a cold stone corridor. Reaching another door, they walked inside down a long stairway, cells standing sentry on either side of them. At the end of the hall there was one large cell, with a small golden haired woman unconscious inside, hands and feet bound in chains. Cassandra opened the cell door and allowed him inside. “I’ll be back later,” Cassandra said, and as she left she whispered something to the guard inside the dungeon, no doubt to keep an eye on him. Ignoring them, he turned his eyes to the prisoner.

They had laid her body upon a stone bed in the prison, and the mark glowed green in the dim light, casting shadows upon his face as he set down his pack. Kneeling, he took her small hand in his larger one. The anchor seemed to spark to life when he touched it, sensing a magic similar to one he possessed. _That the prisoner survived such an ordeal is fascinating_ , he thought to himself as he looked up at her face. A blue vallaslin was carved into her cheeks, standing out against her white skin. A frown creased his brow. Dalish. She moaned softly and trembled as if her body was in great pain; the anchor flaring and leaping as if to reach out to the sky as the breach spread above the world. His grey eyes stared in fascination as the mark continued to leap about, lighting the prison walls around them. Then just as suddenly, the light flashed out, leaving a dim glow emitting from her hand in its wake. Her body stopped trembling, perspiration glistening on her brow as she muttered unintelligible words from her parched lips. A lock of hair covered her eyes, and reaching out a hand he gently smoothed the hair back from her closed eyelids. For a minute, perhaps longer, he stared at her face that seemed to rest peacefully despite whatever misfortune befell her. Rousing himself from his study, he ordered the guard outside to bring him cool water and a rag. When the man returned, he nodded in thanks as he took it. Soaking the rag in the cool water, he dabbed her forehead, gently wiping the perspiration from her delicate brow. Taking hold of her hand again, he turned it about gently in his own, studying it intently. Hours melted into hours like this, him dabbing her forehead and studying her hand. That night he never left her side, refusing the offer of food and sleep. Rummaging through his pack he found a blanket and threw it over her, tucking it under her chin; falling asleep slumped against the bed hours later, her hand still in his as he dreamed searching for answers in the fade. Three days passed in this manner, him scarcely eating and staying by her side the entire time.

Rifts were spreading everywhere across the sky, a dark shadow that would not fade. Death's dark tidings were set loose upon all, it's corruption refusing to be sent back into the sky. Mages and templars alike were casting blame upon the other for the murder of the Divine and thousands more, and the chantry cast blame upon the sole survivor. Just the evening before someone had attempted to murder the prisoner who had yet to awake. The guards easily apprehended the man who claimed that it was the Maker's will she be executed. As yet they had not decided her fate.

Her condition had not changed . . . would she ever awake? A mortal sent physically through the Fade, said to have been rescued by Andraste herself. His eyes wandered to her face again, eyes still closed in fitful slumber. If this was Corypheus’ doing, killing all those innocent people, he would pay. But that would be for another day, for this one had only just began and there was another chance for him to close the rifts. He sighed, and ran a hand over his shaven head.

Exiting the prison's cells, Solas walked out into the cold air, Cassandra Penteghast meeting him at the prison's doors. The cold wind cleared his mind from his vigil, and the woman stared at him with open distrust.

"Has she awoken yet?" She asked, her hand resting upon the hilt of her sword.

"No."

"Do you know what magic's caused this?"

"The type of magic that's at work here is one that I've never seen. Indeed, no one has ever had such power."

Stepping forward the woman took hold of his vest and leaned forward to stare into his calm eyes "If you are lying to us mage, I will have you executed. I need answers!"

"And you are receiving them." Letting go of him with a snort of disgust, she turned to walk into the prison's halls.

"She's like that, you'll get used to it." A man's voice said, and turning to look at him he saw a dwarf with a crossbow attached to his back. He smiled and bowed as he introduced himself, "Varric Tethras, at your service."

"Solas." He said with an inclination of his head.

"Well, since we're getting along so cheery, are you heading out? I'm going out with some of the soldiers to see these rifts for myself, perhaps I'll kill a few things while I'm at it." He spoke with a crooked smile, as if he were eager to start killing things.

The prisoner would likely not awaken before his return, and now Adan was there in case she took fever again. One more attempt to seal the rifts, and if he failed, he must find answers elsewhere, or else the world be doomed and shatter round them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is from J.R.R. Tolkien. Again. I just liked it and it seemed fitting to me. Anyhow, hope you guys enjoyed! And now everyone's favorite character has joined: Varric! Or maybe that's just me.


	3. The Sky Torn

_~Stumble from the ashes, Lost enigmas in the dust, I cannot remember, Though they tell me that I must, Sky is torn asunder, Fear that breaks the brave, Will not drag me under, Climb out of the grave.~_

 

Eowyn's eyes slowly opened. She started when she saw the stone surrounding her, trying to scramble to her feet but yanked back to the earth in a heap; finding them bound in chains. Her feet were weighted to the ground by cold iron, her hands bound together in bondage. _What sort of trickery is this?_ she thought grimly before raising her eyes to meet a tall woman's glare. The woman was arrayed in black armor, the crest of the seeker emblazoned on her breastplate. Her lips formed a tight line, steel eyes casting daggers into her own hazy ones; her hand twitched next to the handle of the sword hanging off her waist belt.

Searing pain seared through her bones and into her left hand, and she gasped as green light sparked and sizzled, a great power trying to connect to something greater. _Mythal save me, for something terrible is happening,_ she silently prayed as she squeezed her eyes shut. Flashes of an explosion, someone's hand, and utter darkness passed before her mind, and the light lost it's spark.

Another woman walked in with a cloak hiding most of her face, a touch of red hair peeking out at the seams. The Seeker circled around behind her, and hissed in her ear: "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead, except for you." She walked in front of her, as if to demand the truth. Eowyn's mind was a blank slate. Everyone, dead? What caused the explosion? She remained silent, opting for that instead. If they killed her, she'd die with pride, not kneeling and sniveling for mercy.

"Explain this." She said, grabbing her hand and jerking it upward to show her, and it sparked to light.

"I can't," she said evenly, staring into her eyes with a silent challenge. 

"What do you mean you can't?" She demanded, almost yelling. 

"I. Don't. Remember!" She answered, punctuating each word.

After being interrogated needlessly for something she didn't even remember, the one named Cassandra had her leave the prison. And the sky was dark and grey, except for the torn part of the sky that swirled in various hues of green. Cassandra explained what it was, and Eowyn could only stare in wonder. The breach a window into the fade? It spread and the anchor flared, driving her to her knees in agony. Cassandra knelt before her on one knee, saying, "Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads. And it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but we haven't got much time." Death had shone it's face to her before, she would not cower in it's presence now.

Gritting her teeth, she accepted Cassandra's hand to help her back to her feet. "I will do what I can, if this is the answer."

Cassandra nodded in approval, and continuing their journey they left the fortresses gates, coming upon a bridge after walking a long path. Suddenly it shattered as they crossed, collapsing as the sky spread and demons approached them unawares.

Almost getting attacked by shade demons, Cassandra ran forward with her shield upheld and her steel blade flashing in the sunlight, issuing forth a great cry that sang to the very heavens. One appeared in front of Eowyn. She punched it when it's hideous face got closer, falling back to where a long knife and bow laid upon a still grey corpse. Grasping the knife, she plunged the blade into it's neck as it cried aloud in pain and shriveled to the ground. Cassandra battled onward with a shade demon, another appearing behind her and coming in for the slaughter. Quickly she grabbed the bow and notched an arrow on it's string, whispering a silent prayer to the goddess Auduril as the arrow sprang forth and struck it in the head; Cassandra decapitating her own nemesis. Turning around she saw the bow in Eowyn's uplifted hand and raised her shield, the crest of the Seeker a banner to the power of the woman that held it.

"Drop the weapon. Now."

Carefully she laid it upon the ground, an ill wind would blow if she crossed the woman just yet. Besides, such a bow was not the quality of her people, and would not last long in the field of battle.

"Okay, it's alright. I am not your enemy." She said slowly, and pain laced through her wrist and into her fingers as her hand sparked alive when she straightened to her full height.

Cassandra sighed, "You speak the truth; you appear to have sense and I believe you would not kill me. You may carry it, for there are too many enemies and I cannot protect you from them all. But I warn you: betray me, and I will kill you."

She nodded in solemn agreement and picked up the discarded bow, untangling the quiver from the dead man's back; sheathing the long knife upon her side. Walking their way ever upwards, they fought, slaughtering any demons that crossed their path. Cresting the top of a ruined building, soldiers of their own fought demons that broke out with the sky, a tear of green issuing forth more demons with each passing second. Cassandra joined the fray, and Eowyn's nerves in her hand burned with hot fire as she raised her bow for battle. A dwarven crossbowman stood on the edge of the battle zone as she, shooting bolts that took out each target with a single _twang!_ of his string. Soldiers fell as more demons appeared, and a mage shot bolts of magic, felling as many demons as any of the soldiers. Seconds dissolved into minutes as the battle raged on, when finally what felt like mere seconds later, the mage ran to her and grabbed her sparking hand, dragging her to the tear and pressing her hand with his own upon it, letting go when it sealed, crackling sounds issuing forth before it sealed up.

The mage stared at her with wonder, as she looked upon her own hand with a slight bewilderment in her gaze; holding it up in the dazzling sunlight as the others drew closer with curiosity.

The mage was dressed in simple clothes, with a wolf-bone amulet hanging round his neck. His grey eyes looked at her intensely, and they glinted with a new spark, as of a man who has lost all hope, but finds it somewhere he did not expect.

"What did you do?" Eowyn asked.

"I did nothing, the credit is yours." He said with a bow of his head.

"How did it, _I,_ do that?"

"Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand.I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake. And it seems I was correct."

"Meaning it could also close the breach itself?" Cassandra asked, stepping closer.

"Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

"Good to know, here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," the dwarf said as he sheathed his crossbow on his back and walked towards them with a smile. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag along." He said with a bow and a wink at Cassandra.

"Nice crossbow. I'm Eowyn Lavellan." Holding out her hand he shook it.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live." The mage spoke up, causing her to look curiously at him. So was she . . . for the moment. If they decided to execute her when this was all finished she might not be pleased.

"He means, 'I kept that mark from kill you while you slept,'" Varric chimed in.

"Really? How?" Eowyn turned to Solas expectantly, to see a small smile upon his face.

"My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade. Far beyond the experience of any circle mage. The mark upon your hand is something I've never seen." He turned his gaze to Cassandra, "your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I don't think any mage is capable of such power."

"Understood."

Perhaps there was a flicker of hope after all. After discussing what was to be done, they traveled further up the mountain; running into more demons that poured from the sky.

"My magic cannot stop your mark from growing further. For your sake, I suggest we hurry." Solas spoke when it sparked to life again, causing Eowyn to stifle a groan. They couldn't see her weak. No matter what. They couldn't have an advantage over her.

"So, are you innocent?" Varric questioned after a moment of silent travel.

"I don't remember what happened."

"That'll get you every time. Should of spun a story."

"That's what you would have done." Cassandra said.

"It's more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution." Perhaps he was right, though she doubted a story would help in this situation.

They came upon a hill, with another rift and demons pouring through. Immediately they got sucked into the fray, helping the soldiers kill the demons that kept falling from the rift.

"Hurry, use the mark!" Solas yelled during the heat of battle as Eowyn plunged her knife into a wraith that appeared beside her. She spun around quickly, running towards the rift. Holding up her hand as Solas had done, the rift connected with her mark. A loud buzzing rang in her ears, and she felt herself being sucked in by it's power. With a flick of her wrist she let go, closing the rift. Her hand curled, fingernails digging into her palm. The sensation felt weird. She was no mage, perhaps this is what having magic felt like? Certainly normal magic must be less painful, otherwise mages would seem more likely to complain. With a command from Cassandra, the men opened the gate. She couldn't help a small smile when she heard Solas say "well done." At least she was doing something right.

"Whatever that thing on your hand is, it's useful." Varric said as the gates creaked open. Walking onto the bridge, the one named Leliana stood with a chantry fellow, arguing in loud voices. Probably not a good sign.

The Lord Chancellor certainly didn't care for her, asking for her to be executed. Lovely. Even with the breach in the sky they just wanted to run away. Shemlen fools, she thought bitterly to herself. The breach spread above, and pain gnawed at her hand as she gripped it with her other one, not seeing the look of concern on Solas' face. That seemed to get their attention. She was surprised when they asked for her opinion, after just discussing her execution. _Will anyone ever make up their minds here?_ She voiced her opinion that they should take the mountainside path. Cassandra scowled, Varric smiled. That seemed normal for the both of them. They began walking upon the mountain path, snow drifting with the wind. Cold air rushed down the mountains, freezing Eowyn's face as she climbed the ladders up to desolate ruins. Well, not completely desolate, as it had some friendly occupants that wanted them dead. It was dark, and a dank stench filled her nostrils as they continued.

"You are Dalish, yet clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?" Solas commented as they walked. She casually averted her eyes, hoping the Seeker wasn't nearby. If they found out she'd been spying . . . the consequences might not be pleasant.

"What do you know of the Dalish?" She asked, hoping to divert his attention. As long as he didn't get too close to the truth.

"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion." He stated simply.

"We are both of the same people, Solas." She said that, but she knew it was not true. Perhaps they may look the same and share the same heritage, but he was not Dalish. At least not by Dalish standards. He wore no vallaslin, yet he wasn't ignorant like the city elves.

"The Dalish I met felt . . . differently on the subject." Of course.

"Can't you elves just play nice for once?"Varric asked as we walked out into the sunlight.

"We can, some just happen to be picky," she tried to say lightly as they approached another rift.

Power surged through her veins as she approached the rifts, striking any opponent that stood in her way. The others protected her back while she turned towards the rift, lifting up her hand as before. A few minutes passed before the battle was over, and bowed her head towards the scouts that thanked them for saving their lives. Solas walked up, staring where the rift had been.

"Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this."

She smiled, "I've had some practice."

They descended stairs covered in snow between walls of rock. And then, the temple came into view.

A thousand chard corpses stood frozen where the temple of Haven once stood; Eowyn walked around and stared, face blanched white. She'd seen death, just not so much in one place. She paused in the middle of the temple, and turned slowly round, greeted at every sight by the frozen paintings of death. The mage named Solas approached her, speaking softly.

"You remember nothing?"

"No. Not even when I stand here in the midst of the ashes." She raised her disbelieving eyes to his own sympathetic ones. Perhaps someone believed she didn't cause this after all.

Walking further inwards, the walls were illuminated by the light of the rift. She stood in awe for a moment, staring up at the thread of destruction that reached to the sky.

"How do I reach that?" They couldn't expect her to what, jump? The idea almost made her laugh. Except now was not the time for laughing, lest they think her mad.

"No. This is the first, seal it, and perhaps we seal the breach." Solas said.

Shards of red lyrium seemed to sprout over the grounds of the once mighty temple, it's jagged edges a fiery menace. She'd heard tales of it's wretched power; such as in the tales of the Champion. But that's all it had been: stories. Not . . . not this.

Voices, unfamiliar to her own ears, spoke above them as they searched for a path to the rift below. It was unsettling, to say the least. After wandering around a bit, they came to a stairway that lead below.

Coming upon the beginning of the breach that swam above, the soldiers girded themselves for battle. A fragment of what happened flashed before them, Divine Justinia calling for Eowyn's aid. Well, this was a puzzle. After Cassandra asked her more questions which she could not answer, she nodded at her. It was time.

Her hand sparked to life as she stretched it towards the breach. The powers ignited in a stream of light. It was open. A great horned creature fell from the Fade. The company of soldiers let forth their arrows that bounced off it's scales as it let out a terrific bellow. It's horns stood out menacingly on it's head, and with one swipe it took out two unfortunate soldiers. Solas threw a barrier about them all as Cassandra charged with her blade raised. Varric leaped back from it's massive arm, shooting a barrage of bolts as he landed.

With a roar it charged towards Eowyn, sending her flying across the room. Her body slammed into a rock wall, and she lay still upon the ground. It towered over her, it's eyes glowing red. Blood dripped off it's arms, splashing onto the earth.

Thrusting her hand upward in one final attempt, power surged within her; adrenaline bursting through her veins as the powers connected. And pulling back with a flick of her wrist that sent the world into darkness once more, cries faintly echoing in the background as her eyelashes fluttered shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is from the song All As One, by Miracle of Sound. It's an awesome song about Inquisition, you should check it out!   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MVqdYcbDp8  
> Also, my apologies if I bored you by sticking a lot of the conversation from the game in there. Originally I didn't have as much, but a lot of my friends don't play Dragon Age so they were a bit confused when they read it. I promise, more non-screen conversations to come!


	4. As She Slept

_~At the curtains call, It's the last of all, When the lights fade out, All the sinners crawl. So they dug your grave, And the masquerade, Will come calling out, At the mess you made. ~_

It failed. The breach was still open.

The pride demon was easily defeated after Eowyn's attempt at closing the breach, weakened by the power she wielded. The blow to her head left her unconsciousness, but as he knelt to check her pulse she looked up with a small smile.

"Is it done?" her voice whispered.

"Yes dal'en, rest." She could be told the truth later. She fell back into unconsciousness, a smile still evident upon her features.

Picking her smaller frame up carefully, he looked at Cassandra. "Shall this woman remain a prisoner when she helped you so today?" Solas asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

"No. No matter what they say, she did not mean for this to happen. She shall have her own cabin to be cared for by Adan. And you, if you wish to stay. You are free to go."   

Solas nodded in agreement, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It would not be right for her to remain a prisoner after all that had happened; no matter what they said he knew she was innocent. No one would choose such a fate to befall them. And only _his_ orb could have done this. Corypheus was the one who caused this. He knew that now. A shadow of him was standing right there in the memory that was shown to them, and now what did he plan? No Tevinter mage should have been strong enough. Doubt filled him as to whether he'd stay, maybe he'd try to find answers elsewhere, but what would happen here? If he left, perhaps he could find Corypheus. But he would not be able to defeat him himself. After waking up from his slumber, he was weak. That was why he had given the orb to Corypheus, was it not? And now, because of him more destruction roamed the earth. Always his actions seemed to cause death.

But he couldn't think of this. Not now. _Focus on the task at hand,_ he chided himself.

They all traveled back down the mountainside, entering Haven once more an hour later. Her hand still shooting small sparks up into the darkening sky. Reaching the cabin, he gently laid her upon the bed. Blood stained her armor, and her cloak was torn. The same one she'd been wearing in the prison, the same one she wore when the sky was torn.

"I will go find Adan," Cassandra said, leaving only Solas and Varric in the building; for Varric had followed them down the mountainside.

"Is Sparky going to be alright?" Varric asked from behind him, his brow furrowed in concern as he watched Eowyn's unconscious form.

"Sparky? You have given her a name already?" Solas asked, a smile tugging at his mouth. Leave it to the dwarf to come up with nicknames for everyone, even when the world was falling apart.  

"Why not? Her hand sparks, so it matches."

Solas chuckled silently, "Yes, it does."

"Well, I'm going to go visit the tavern, I need it after that. You coming?" Varric said, motioning his thumb over his shoulder.

He shook his head, "No. I will watch over her until Adan arrives."

Varric nodded his head, then exited the building, leaving Solas and Eowyn alone in the room. Her chest rose silently with each breath, and her hand sparked with the breach above that still threatened the world. He pulled up a chair and sat down heavily, putting his head in his hands. Exhaustion threatened to come over him, but he couldn't rest, not yet.

What kind of person would she turn out to be? Would the mark upon her hand change her? Would it make her like _him_? Questions threatened to overwhelm his mind. The mark glowed softly, as if it knew what he was thinking. Taking her hand in his, he examined the mark again. This was proving to be fascinating indeed. His clouded eyes wandered from her hand to her face, which looked hardened beyond her years. Sighing wearily he stood up and grabbed a bowl of water to wash the blood off her face. His fingertips grazed her cheeks, and he noticed the intricacy of her vallaslin. To Andurvil. If only they knew what these marks meant in the time of Arlathan. The Dalish were so blind to the past they longed to know, yet always they denied the truth of his words. Yet if he were to reveal his true identity, they would wish him dead. After so many years, the name Fen'Harel was held in superstition and fear.

Taking her armor carefully off her, he spread healing magic over her body. She had several broken ribs from the Pride Demon, but that would heal, in time. At least she was in better shape than one could hope for, as many did not survive their encounters with those wretched creatures.

The door creaked open when the healer came in, talking to Cassandra. He let go of her hand before they noticed. "I can take care of the prisoner," he said to Solas, as he set a pack filled with medicinal herbs on the table.

"I will retire to my quarters, then."

Solas retired himself to a cabin that Cassandra made available to him. Hanging up his vest and changing into a different tunic, he laid down upon the bed hoping to dream in the Fade. But sleep would not come. Instead, he found himself puzzling over the Elven woman and the mark upon her hand.

                                                                                                              ~*~

The breach stopped growing, as did the mark upon her hand. She was feverish, but she was stronger than she looked. She would survive. He used his magic when Adan wasn't looking to cool her fever a bit. If he saw, he might complain to Cassandra. He even wanted a templar stationed in there to watch over the prisoner. As if she needed any more shock to overwhelm her right now. So many things would be different for her now.

And they would never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is from Demons, by Imagine Dragons. That song just seems fitting for Solas/Lavellan. Janic99 on youtube made a beautiful tribute for the Solas/Lavellan romance using the song "Demons."   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PDhU0JhIec0


	5. Awakening

_~Let it flame or fade, and the war roll down like a wind, We have proved we have hearts in a cause, we are noble still, And myself have awakened, as it seems, to the better mind. It is better to fight for the good than to rail at the ill; I have felt with my native land, I am one with my kind, I embrace the purpose of God, and the doom assign'd.~_

Morning light gently filtered through the glass windows into the small cabin, slowly awaking Eowyn from her deep sleep. For a moment, as her eyes drank in the morning light, she felt as if she were back in her aravel with her brother. Until the crowded wooden walls slipped into view. She kicked the covers off, eyes wide and heart racing as an animal taken from it's wilderness home and trapped in a cage. Right then the door creaked open as an Elven servant slipped into the cabin, coming to an abrupt halt and staring at Eowyn who stared back.

"Sorry to wake you miss!" The woman squeaked and backed towards the door. "They are requesting your presence in the Chantry." Ah, now her memory came back. The shemlens, and she, their prisoner.

"Your fine," she tried to reassure the girl before she opened the door and retreated. "Wait!" she cried but the girl was already gone behind the wooden door. _I suppose I'll just have to find this "Chantry" myself,_ she thought glumly. Sighing, she walked over to a mirror that hung on the wall and took in her appearance: her hair was tangled and she was dressed in just her underclothes. Running a hand through her tangled strands, she tiptoed to the next room and crept to the window to glance at the world outside. People were milling about in groups and talking in hushed tones, risking glances at the cabin she was caged in as if they were waiting for a great spectacle to happen.

"Fenedhis,"she whispered as she realized there was no way to escape. Perhaps she could slip through the crowd unnoticed? Not likely. How many Dalish were there with a hand that glows?  

She slipped back into the back room and looked around for her armor. But no, even that was not here for her to use. The only clothing was a button up suit that was shemlen made. Picking up the clothing, she caressed it with her hand, to find it warm and soft. Not sturdy enough for her to survive the cold in, but perhaps she could find where they stored her armor and bow. Now she remorsefully thought of the bow she lost in the explosion, the one that her father had made for her when she was a child of twelve. Quickly changing into the shem's clothes, she glanced again at herself in the mirror and tried to comb her hair out with her slender fingers, twisting a long braid over her shoulder. Then she noticed her hand no longer glowed, though it ached with a residing dull pain. Grimly taking in her less wild appearance, she slipped on some boots that were laid next to the bed and walked out into the blinding sunshine; shading her eyes with her hand that felt empty without the feel of the bow against her skin.

She walked off the wooden platform and onto the earth, winding her way through the crowd and up a path that lead to a tall building. Perhaps if she kept to the trail and went to the building, someone could tell her where this Chantry was. Ignoring the whispers and stares pounding into her back, she glanced around to look for any possible escape, only to find that she was truly caged within the looming walls built by shems. Perhaps all shems weren't bad, she'd talked to some in the forest who were kind; but these ones didn't seem too friendly to begin with. 

Arriving at the building that stood tall over the others, she pressed on the heavy wooden doors to have them open readily at her touch. People walked away when she approached, and stared at her when she passed. This must have been the first time they beheld one of the Dalish, and she held up her head and walked tall, as if to proclaim she was not ashamed of her heritage and would embrace it with pride. As she walked closer to the end of the hall, voices arose in argument.

"Chain her." The Chancellor spoke when she opened the door. She grew tense like spring, ready to lash out at any who dared to bind her again.

"Disregard that," Cassandra ordered the men.

He accused her for causing it because she was still alive. Did she have to die to prove her innocence? Her eyes grew wide when Cassandra called her a "chosen one," sent by the Maker in their darkest hour.

"I am no _"chosen one"_ by your gods or mine." The road of her life was enough to prove that wrong. Indeed, the gods seemed more likely to laugh at her and give her bad luck. Perhaps she was chosen as the gods special jester instead. 

Cassandra didn't seem to agree, but she couldn't change her opinion. Everyone to their own beliefs. A heavy book with an eye emblazoned on it's front was slammed on the table before her. Hearing her plan for calling an inquisition, the Chancellor walked out in anger.

"But we have no choice: we must act now. With you by our side." Cassandra said, looking Eowyn in the eye. Her face drained of color when she realized what she meant. And then, the importance of what happened slammed into her, her chest constricting with the truth.

"I-I can't stay. My clan needs me, I can't just leave them," she protested. To stay would mean never to return, to stay would mean losing her brother and friend's just like her parents. "You want me to stay here, a _heathen,_ to lead your people?"

"It does not matter what race you are. Only your mark can save us," said Leliana. They both looked at her so hopefully. How could she pronounce the doom of the world, when she could stop it? Well, _maybe._

"Very well. I accept, for now," she declared. And hands were shaken in agreement.  

After discussing things with them, she walked back into the cold, running a hand through her hair. She breathed heavily. She needed to get out of here, people were everywhere. Never before had she been around so many people in her life. Her breath came out in puffs of smoke that curled and floated in the air. Then a voice spoke, causing her to jump.

"How's your hand?" Solas said, leaning against the chantry. How long had he been there?

"That must be the question of the day," she answered wearily.

"Is it no wonder? People want to meet the woman who survived the explosion, the one said to be the Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero to save us all."

"Is that supposed to make me feel honored or disgraced? That I should be labeled as an image for one of their Gods when I do not believe in them?" She said, knowing one of her own would understand her discomfort. Hopefully.

"One day you will discover that there is more truth in things than you may believe." He stated simply, looking at the sky.

"Perhaps. But that I should change my beliefs? I would say that is unlikely."

"Tell me, _da'len,_ what do you know of the Creators?" He asked, looking at her with an intensity that made her sigh inside. _Da'len?_ She did not consider herself a child. People were bound to drive her crazy here. She'd rather be running the woods with Tethera. The thought almost made her smile wistfully.

"What the Keeper has taught me," she answered warily. She felt as if her words would be held accountable and used against her later.

"I did not ask what your Keeper knew of the Creator's, but what you know." He said, pushing more at her shell.  

"I believe in the goddesses Auduril and Mythal, the others . . . I can't say that I've really paid as much attention to them." She answered truthfully, for people always seemed to take sides in her clan about which ones were the better gods. All were honored, save one: Fen'Harel. He was held more in fearful awe. Sacrifices made and statues built to keep evil spirits away. The Dread Wolf. Stories meant to scare the young. Perhaps there was a "Dread Wolf," but clearly he wasn't around now to terrify them. None had been killed by his wrath. And if anyone was, perhaps they deserved it. 

"And why is that?" He asked. Curiosity. Might as well sate his questions now so maybe she'd have peace later.

"Anduril and Mythal were the ones I turned to in times of need. They were the ones I felt were more applicable to my life. The others . . . they were there for when they were needed which was rare. And since I was a hunter, Auduril was more personal to me than the others."

"And Mythal?"

She smiled sadly, "Mythal, the Goddess of protection. There was a time I clung to her for hope." She paused, eyes looking away from him, lost in memories that were not pleasant. "But the Creators do not always answer our prayers."

"Every great war has it's heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be." Thank goodness he didn't ask anymore questions. 

A moment of silence passed between them. Not uncomfortable silence, almost like the silence between two friends when no words need be spoken.

 "I will stay then. At least until the Breach has been closed." He continued.

"Was that in doubt?"

"I am an apostate, and unlike you I have no mark on my hand to protect me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

"You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you." Indeed, after he had helped prove her innocence, she would protect him in any way she could.

"How would you stop them?"

"However I had too. Even if I have to use nugs." She said with a smile.

"Thank you." He said with a small smile. "But now let us hope either the templars or the mages have the power to seal the breach."

Before she could reply a familiar voice spoke. "Now that you've met the gang, you should come with me to the tavern that young Flissa keeps." said Varric, approaching them.

"I've never been to a tavern before," she said, curiosity pricking at her mind as she wondered at the possibility. Perhaps it would help her forget the headache that was now an inquisition.

"Never been to a tavern! How do you guys live? That's it, your coming with me. Chuckles can bury himself in a book."

Before they entered the cabin that had voices singing cheerily within, she glanced up towards the cabins to see Solas watching her, and he averted his gaze when hers met his. Quickly looking away as well, she beheld the sky above where it was breached still with a swirl of green. The same magic swirled in her palm, as if it were alive, caressing her skin. Creators, the things she had experienced just since leaving her clan for a few weeks. Her mind tempted to drift towards Tamel before Varric tugged on her sleeve, dragging her inside the foul smelling building.

"Come on Sparky, we don't got all day."  

"Sparky?" She questioned. He didn't answer. Sitting her down at a roughly hewn table that smelled of oak, he left her to walk up to the counter and order drinks from a dark haired woman who smiled warmly at him and greeted him as if he were an old friend.

"So, Sparky," he said, sitting on the other side with two mugs, one in each hand; "drink up.” And he slide one over to her that sloshed and spilled over the sides and trickled slowly onto the table. She looked down at the swirling golden depths that smelled of honey, and looked back at him cocking one her pale golden eyebrows.

“What is this?”

“Just drink!” he said, raising his mug in silent salutation and taking a long swig before setting it back onto the table. Taking cue from him she raised hers slowly in both cold hands and lifted it to her blue lips and gently took a sip, the taste of honeyed mead caressing her tongue. Lifting it higher she drank more to Varric’s laughing encouragement. Gasping for breath she set the now half full mug down with a heavy thud.

“Tasty?” Varric asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Yes!” she agreed enthusiastically as he laughed and drank more.

"So," he started, looking down at his mug before looking back at her, "now that Cassandra's out of earshot, how are you holding up?" "

Fenedhis," she whispered. "None of this shit should have happened." She looked him in the eye. He seemed to understand. Enjoying the time away from killing demons, an hour quickly passed.

As dusk fell they both left the tavern, Varric leaving for his tent and she for her cabin.  

“Goodnight Varric,” she said with a smile, “and thank you.”

“No problem Sparky.” And with that he left her standing among the snow as the sun set behind the snow capped mountains standing tall and proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My quote this time is from Maud, A Monodrama, Part 111, verse 5, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Yeah, I like poetry lol.  
> Happy national nug day!  
> Aka Easter.


	6. Hahren

_~She felt like a beginning. A clean canvas, ready to be painted. A gorgeous new idea.~_

It had been a week since the Herald awoke and Cassandra called for the Inquisition. Solas sat in a chair next to a window, light pouring over him. His eyes skimmed the pages of an ancient tome, his brows furrowed in thought.  Hours passed in this manner, until voices passed his cabin, drawing his eyes away from the tome. Varric and Eowyn strode pass, walking down the path to the lake. He tried to focus on the words neatly spread across the pages, but, unable to ignore his curiosity any longer, he grabbed his staff and exited the cabin. He followed the trail, coming to a stop when they came into view. 

Varric and Eowyn stood near the edge of the lake, both looking over Varric's crossbow. He handed it to Eowyn with a smile, and as Solas drew near he heard Varric instructing her.

"Hold it up, and push it into your shoulder to steady it. Your right handed, right?" She gave a small nod, concentrating on positioning it. "Now, pull this lever and it'll bring the bolt back." She pulled it. "When you've sighted your target, pull the trigger. Gently now, Bianca's touchy." A moment of silence passed as she closed her left eye, looking down the sight intently. Her hand gently pressed the trigger. The bolt surged forward, flying through the air and hitting a tree about ten yards off. "Not bad for a first," Varric said, smiling as he thumped Eowyn on the back. She lowered the crossbow.

"It seems it would take forever to do this in battle. How do you do it so fast?" Handing it back to him they started to walk towards the pierced tree. "Practice, Sparky. I didn't learn this in my sleep. Although, Bianca has a thing for me."

"Bianca, surely there's a story behind that name?"

"And it's the one I'll never tell." He said with a wink. She pulled it out of the tree with little difficulty. "You should have seen Hawke try shooting Bianca, she couldn't hit the wall of the chantry!" He said with a laugh. "She always stuck to her greatsword."

"The Champion?" She asked. "I heard you wrote a book about her."

"Yep. I think it's safe to say it's my bestseller."

"Do you have a copy?"

"Yes, my own. I can contact my agent in Kirkwall to give you one. But for now, you can use mine." She smiled. "Thanks Varric."

"Chuckles, have you come to learn from the Master?" Varric asked when he noticed Solas standing nearby, leaning upon his staff. He silently cursed himself for not moving sooner. "I'm afraid not, Master Tetheras. I was merely curious."

Eowyn smiled, "Do you know how to use a bow, Solas?"

"He spends too much time in his books," Varric said before Solas could answer. Footsteps approached, Cassandra walking towards Eowyn.

"Herald, we need your presence in the war room."

"I'll be there," Eowyn said, visibly straightening. She looked back at Varric, "Thanks for the lesson. I think I'll stick to my bow. Crossbows are too . . . mechanical."

He laughed, "No problem, I wasn't trying to convert you."

She nodded at Solas as she passed, walking up the path to the Chantry. 

"She's not like you," Varric observed after she passed out of earshot. 

"You expect all Elves to be the same, Child of the Stone?" Solas asked, turning his attention to the dwarve. 

"No, no. I've known a few in my time." Solas wondered if Varric realized he was stroking the crossbow in his arms. Perhaps it was just a matter of habit. 

"I must return to my studies," Solas said as he moved towards the path. 

"Do you do anything else besides 'studying?'" Varric asked as he walked with him.

"Perhaps."

                                                                                                        ~*~

They gathered round a table in a room, and Eowyn stood near one end twirling hair in between her slender fingers. Cassandra was bent over it and talking to Eowyn quietly, pointing to some marker on the map. As Solas drew near he began to hear her more clearly. "Hinterlands, we're bound to be muddled in the midst of the templars and mages fighting there. Nothing we can't handle. Varric wants to stay with us and help, and so does- oh," she said, noticing Solas standing there. Solas inclined his head as if in agreement with what she was about to say.

"Aneth ara, hahren." Eowyn spoke, "I am glad to see you have joined us."

"As am I," Cassandra added. "You have more knowledge about these things than any mage I've known."

"Thank you," Solas said, folding his hands behind his back as he observed them.

"We will leave for the Hinterlands in the morning, Herald."

"Thank you, Cassandra," said Eowyn as she passed them by and exited the room.

"It appears you and the Herald are becoming friends." Solas observed.

"Perhaps, though I'm afraid she doesn't trust me yet. You I know she trusts."

"Is that no surprise? She was your prisoner, and I she views as one of her own.'" It was only logical for her to do so. She had never been around shemlens, after all. But it was not good if she gave her trust too quickly. 

"No, it is not." She said with a sigh as she stood up and rubbed her neck as if it were sore. Despite how there was tension when they first met, Solas was finding a growing respect for the woman. "Seeker, you initially believed our "Herald of Andraste" was involved in the attack on the Conclave, yes?" She frowned at the table before looking back at him. "I did. The evidence seemed damning, given the lack of an alternative."

"Yet you changed your mind." Which was surprising, considering few do. "You also heard the voices at the temple - is it so surprising I listened to them?" Indignation was in her voice, but she was not mad.

"Sadly, yes. Too few invested with authority possess the courage to alter their course. They fear the appearance of weakness." And he'd seen many do so. Especially after his journeys in the Fade.  

"The truth is more important than my reputation, and anyone willing to accuse me of weakness is welcome to try." She said as she passed him. "Excuse me, but I must get back to work."

"Of course, Seeker."

                                                                                                    ~*~

They set forth into the Hinterlands earlier that morning.  Forests and hills of green greeted the small party as they ventured ever inwards in the Hinterlands, fighting their way against the templars and mages that strove against each other within. A rift sparked up ahead, and he drew forth his staff, summoning magic to his fingertips. 

"Everyone, get ready!" Eowyn shouted as the rift spewed forth wraiths. She dodged a bolt of magic, shooting the wraith that shot at her. Solas quickly cast a barrier about her as she shot another one. 

Cassandra slayed one in her path as she ran towards the Lesser Rage demon that appeared. Varric shot bolts from a rock he had climbed upon, Bianca's voice singing into battle. Eowyn had reached a place where she could access the rift, her hand sending up sparks into the sky. She thrust forth her hand as the battle raged on. Varric sank a bolt into a demons neck that had started to run towards her. Yanking her hand away, there was a slight lull in the battle as they waited for more to appear. Three times they went through this, and then with a flick of her wrist the rift was sealed. The light of the mark faded away as the night. 

"That mark of yours is handy," Varric stated as he began to gather Bianca's bolts. 

"It is." She answered, gathering her fallen arrows as well. Solas leaned upon his staff, letting his mana regenerate. Cassandra leaned up against a tree, using a rag to wipe away the blood that stained her sword. A few minutes passed in silence. "Let's find a place to camp . . . elsewhere." Eowyn said as she stretched, her arrows back in her quiver. 

"Yeah, I don't fancy sleeping here," Varric said with a shudder as they moved on. 

They camped near a river, the stream singing softly as it flowed past. Within ten minutes they had a fire going and spread their bedrolls around the fire. Solas set up wards around the camp. After eating stiff slices of dried meat, they sat round the fire, each one too tired and lost in thought for conversation. Everyone except for Eowyn. She kept pacing back and forth in front of the fire. Solas fiddled with his staff, Cassandra sharpened her sword, and Varric leaned against a tree, humming to himself.

"I'll take first watch," Eowyn said. 

"Your going to wear a hole into the ground," Varric said as he crawled inside his blankets. 

She came to a standstill, then started doing it again. Solas watched with a small smile. She finally grabbed her discarded bow and walked into the trees, mumbling something about needing fresh air. As if they weren't outside already. Cassandra sighed and crawled into her bed roll as well, her sword lying next to her hand. 

Crickets gently sang in the background, and the grass lithely swayed with the breeze. Stars twinkled above in the dark sky, all in harmony, as if there was no blight lying upon this land. He sighed, for despite the earth's beauty death was ever present. Red lyrium was spreading everywhere across the Hinterlands. Indeed, it was spreading across Thedas. Becoming restless himself, he walked to the edge of the forest. 

He walked deeper into the trees, his thoughts a tangle of threads. _Where had Corypheus gone with the orb?_ He knew now it was a grievous mistake he made by giving his orb to him. Now he needed to get it back, whatever the cost. Regret, or perhaps guilt, seemed to constantly gnaw at him. His thoughts wandered to the Herald that was leading them, against her will it seemed, yet still she did it. She was proving to be a mystery, much to his consternation and . . . delight? Normally the Dalish were so narrow minded, yet she had proved to be open to the teachings of all. Or at least she listened. Perhaps time would prove him wrong, for one cannot know the purpose of of a hidden heart within a weeks time. He smiled to himself, for it was a mystery he was looking forward to solving. Perhaps she wasn't meant to be solved, but to look upon dazzled by the light that surrounded her.

An elk stood in the clearing ahead of him, it's brown fur glinting in the moonlight, drawing his thoughts away from Eowyn. He stood still, watching as it turned it's great head towards him, it's antlers reaching out to the stars in all it's glory: the true picture of nature in it's strength and beauty. Dangerous, yet captivating.

"Almost seems a shame to kill it, doesn't it?" A now familiar voice whispered beside him. He turned around, not surprised to find her at his side, lowering her bow that had been aimed at it's heart. "So much death covers this land already, I've killed enough for one day." She sheathed her arrow back in it's quiver, and looked at him with a sheepish smile. "Sorry if I startled you, I'm used to stalking in the woods."

"Not at all da'len." He said with a smile. Indeed, seeing her was not a bad thing. "You did not startle me. And yes, something that powerful seems a shame to destroy with all the destruction in the world."

"At least I didn't ruin the scenery for you," she said, and then the elk leaped forth and disappeared into the trees, the earth trembling with the thunder of it's hoofs. They watched it leave with awe, and after a moments silence she spoke with a smile, "or perhaps I did after all."

"Yesterday you called me 'Hahren,'" Solas said after a moment, "why? I'm not of the Dalish, as you are. Nor am I a leader of the city Elves."

A blush seemed to creep up her neck under the pale light of the moon, and he found himself almost pleased by it. "It's a term of respect, _Hahren_." She paused for a moment. "Also because your so old."

"And you are but a da'len," He said with a smile. Indeed, compared to him she was but a few years.

"You do not mind, do you?" She asked suddenly, studying his face as if to find the truth. 

"No, da'len, I do not mind."

"Good."

Turning she walked through the snow, the moon casting shadows upon her small figure. He watched for a moment, before shaking his head and following her back to camp. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it would be awesome if Varric taught you to use his crossbow.


	7. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hama, Deshanna's apprentice, comes to Haven with letters from Clan Lavellan.

_~It is better to stand and fight. If you run, you'll only die tired.~_

 

 _"_ An Elven apostate is standing at the gates Herald. He claims he knows you and has a letter he wants delivered into your hands only." The Elven woman bowed low and Eowyn wished to stop her, but knew the woman would treat her that way no matter what she said. She stood still, as if awaiting her command. Though isn't that what everyone did now? The Herald of Andraste, sent to save the world? Were people so gullible as to believe everything they heard? She roused herself from her contemplation and answered.

"Alright. I will go speak to him." It had to be Hama, what other Elven apostate would wish to speak to her, besides the one that already dwelt within Haven's walls? Scurrying off, the woman retreated without a single word.

"She did not say if the apostate was a male." Cassandra noted, having overheard the woman's words and approached Eowyn with her classic frown on her face. If Tethera was here, Cassandra would never survive her teasing. The thought made her smile, which made Cassandra frown more.

"He's someone from my clan, Keeper Deshanna's apprentice." She said, starting to walk down the dirt path with Cassandra following close behind.

"And he is no danger to Haven?" She asked, following her.

"If our mages were a danger to innocent people, they would have left the Dalish and joined in the templar war. He is harmless." The mark sputtered to life when she spoke, woken by her twisted feelings of frustration at Cassandra's accusation.

"Sorry, I did not mean to offend," Cassandra offered, seeming sincere in her apologies. Poor woman, she was always so outspoken, to her own detriment.

"I know, it's alright. Your just being protective."

"Your too nice Herald." Sometimes she felt that was the truth.

"Can people stop calling me that? I feel like I have to shout something important when anyone utters that despicable word." She dramatically shuddered as if the whole thing was horrifying. "It's going to make me have nightmares forever."

"Very funny." Cassandra said, rolling her eyes. "I'll let you talk to your friend. If anything happens, just call for us." She stopped a ways from the gate, hand on the hilt of her sword. Always expecting the worst. Eowyn almost sighed in relief, having Cassandra there would have made things harder as she talked to Hama.

An Elven mage stood stoic against the sun in between the gates, peering ahead. When he saw her a smile broke out on his face as he walked swiftly to meet her.

"Lethallin!" He said, wrapping his arms about her and embracing her tightly. Eowyn laughed lightly, giddy to see one of her own again after what felt like ages of being apart. Though it had been over two months now. Questions bubbled within her, questions about those she left behind. All would be answered in due time.

"I'm not dead Hama!" she said with one last giggle before standing back and looking up into his face, that appeared much older than she remembered. His eyes green as Tethera's looked down at her seriously, and his eyes wandered to her hand hanging at her side.

"Is it true?" He didn't have to say what was. Didn't the whole world know?

"Yes. I am somehow connected to the Fade and what has happened to the sky." Her eyes involuntarily glanced at the gaping hole that seemed to mock them with each passing day.

"You won't be coming back." It was not a question, but a statement, a pronouncement of her future. And her heart sank to hear it.

"There's nothing keeping me here," she said, as if that might change her fate. No matter where she went, should she run with Tamel to the farthest corner of the earth, she could not escape this. Perhaps it was not destiny, just a task that someone must fulfill. And she was the one that received the task.

"Here, let us discuss this later. You are weary from travel, I will show you a place where you can rest. We can continue discussing this once you've rested." She said, moving away from him and hoping to avoid more discussion of the future. It was too uncertain.

"Wait, I have letters for you. One from the Keeper, Tethera, and even Tamel." He said, searching through his pack and pulling out crumbled letters. Her heart beat faster when he laid them in her hands, questions racing through her mind. _How were they? Was he alright without her?_

She hastily showed Hama to a cabin, then raced to a private spot near a tree where she could read the letters privately. Sitting against it's lean truck, she tore open the one from Tamel, scribbles and splotches of ink covering the onion skin paper.

_"Aneth ara Eowyn,_

_Tethy says I have to write to say I'm ok, otherwise you'll be sick. But I don't get how that'd make you sick. Are you killing bad things? Big things? With your bow? Can we still hunt when you get back? Snow's melting, so I've been watching every day. But they say you won't come back for a long time. Why? I don't like being alone. Tethy is here so it's not so bad, and she's saying she'll throttle me if I say anything to make you worry. Don't worry, I'm ok. Please get a bow for me when you come back so we can hunt together. I've grown bigger, Tethy says she's sure I've grown a foot. Please come home soon. Dareth shiral . . . what does that mean? She made me write it here. I miss you. Tamel."_

She smiled fondly over the letter, smoothing out the wrinkles. He was alright, Tethera was taking good care of him. It was just like her little brother . . . so many questions. She held up the letter to her nose, and breathed in deeply. It smelled like home. Of pine trees and mountains, pine cones and elfroot. Home. Her eyes scanned the letter again. And again. Until she had it memorized. Finally she opened the letter from her friend, smiling at the "hasty" (least that's what her Keeper called it) writing that was her friend's trademark.

_"Aneth ara Eowyn,_

_So, hole in the sky and a mark on your hand? That makes sense. Happens all the time, right? So, simple: close the sky and come home. I mean, really. Does it take a whole country to do that? Yes, I'm being unreasonable. Fenedhis, you've been gone almost two months. Two months is hardly anything compared to forever. Not saying that you aren't coming back, but let's be realistic. What if you don't come back? What will happen to Tamel? To me? What I'm trying to say, is, stay alive. You can do it. We need you. And it sounds as if the shems do too, which is . . . weird. I will kill you if you die. I swear I'll find some way to do it. Tamel is fine, he's stronger than you may think. One day, who knows, perhaps he will become one of the greatest hunters in Dalish history. Great, now I'm feeling old. Dareth shiral lethallin, good luck. Come back soon. Tell Hama he better not have read this or he will pay. Perhaps actual coin? Anyways, I'm blabbering because I'm nervous. Just . . . stay safe. Tethera."_

_Ah, Tethera, you always worry. More than you let on. It's not like I'm dying,_ she thought glumly before reading it again then setting it aside. Just one more letter.

_"Aneth ara Eowyn,_

_I admit we were all worried when we heard you were held as responsible for the destruction of the Conclave, through it was not surprising. Shemlens can be foolhardy at times. I have heard you have decided to stay with them, to help close the rifts in the sky. Though I am worried for your safety, I cannot forbid you in this. It is up to you, da'len, but since you have the anchor on your hand you sound like the only hope this world has. Many sorrows will come from this. Prepare yourself, for no one will be exempt. You are strong. You are your father's daughter. I wish you well da'len, you've been like a daughter to me. Dareth shiral, Keeper Deshanna."_

"Letters from home?" A now familiar voice asked. She glanced up to see Solas standing there.

"Yes." She said quietly, still brooding over the words that were sent.

"Tell me about them," he said, sitting down next to her. He looked at her expectantly, yet patiently.

"I'm not sure you'd find our way of life very interesting after all you've seen, Hahren." After all he'd done with his life, what could he find intriguing about a people he seemed to not care for?

"I'm afraid you've misjudged me, da'len. The Elves are still my people."

"I didn't say they weren't."

"Your face did."

"Perhaps it has a mind of it's own."

He chuckled lightly, "Keep that sense of humor, da'len."

"I intend too."

"Tell me. Perhaps it would ease your spirit." She sighed and twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, and the fading sunlight shone upon her.

"How do you let go? At least, my brother, he's alone and there's no one to care for him. And I can't watch over him now, as is my duty."

"You don't have to let go. You will return, da'len. The clan will take care of him." He replied gently.

"Perhaps, but I've been watching over him my whole life. He needs me."

"I'm sure if he's your brother, he has the strength to endure, though he is young. You set a fine example, da'len. One I wish all the Dalish would follow." She looked at him curiously. Her, an example to the Dalish? Surely he must be joking. But no, his face was serious and set. If he told that to the Dalish they might run away in horror. The idea was almost laughable, but perhaps now was not the time for mirth.

"I can't go back. Well, I could. But I can't. Not now when so much is at stake. The world is threatened by whoever tore the sky, and it's up to me stop it. I'd be a coward to run now." As she spoke, her voice became stronger and more certain, and her eyes shone with a light that none had ever seen before. Solas looked upon her in wonder.

"Then your path is set before you." He looked at her curiously. "Who is the one who delivered them?"

She looked startled, as if she almost forgot he was there. "Oh, you mean Hama. I assume you saw him?"

"Yes. I did." He looked away.

"Something on your mind, _da'len_?" She teased. "Perhaps if you tell me, it will ease your spirit." As she spoke she mimicked his way of speech perfectly. 

He smiled and rose to leave, "Forget I spoke."

Hmm, now he didn't want to tell her. Curious. She was finding this more intriguing by the minute. "I can't forget you spoke. What are you thinking? I'm going to die of curiosity now." She rose with him, and ended up dropping her letters. After picking them up, she looked up and saw he was gone. Fadestepped. Cheater. Now she had to know what he was thinking.

                                                                                                    ~*~

After two days, Hama started his journey back to their clan, bearing a letter revealing Eowyn's decision to stay. She stared after him as he left, a grey dawn tugging at the night sky. He had not seemed surprised by her choice, but it still felt odd. As if a piece of her heart was gone. For would she ever see her brother again? She'd sent a letter to him as well, and it felt as if her heart was slowly being hammered away as she wrote it. The thought of him waiting in a tree, watching for her arrival, made her spirit sink. Perhaps he would reveal strength though, as Solas said. The future will be revealed in time. For now, her prayers would have to be enough.

And it was time to meet the Chantry priests at Val Royeaux.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is a Viking saying I found on Pinterest.


	8. Val Royeaux

_~She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world.~_

 

Walls of marbled stone greeted them, and Eowyn stared in wonder at the sight. No doubt she'd never seen such a city before. Solas' thoughts briefly wandered to ancient cities that would rival any thing that stood this day. Perhaps one day he could show her. Quickly he shoved the thought away as it came. 

She was talking in hushed tones with Varric, trying to hide a smirk behind her hand. Whatever it was, they stopped and she slowed her pace, Solas casually catching up to her side.

"I have a question for you," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Should I be frightened by the prospect, da'len?"

"No!" She said, with a gasp of horror, "I could never frighten you." Then she paused, smirking. "Though the thought is rather amusing."

He rolled his eyes. Always sarcastic. Did she always respond that way? Though, he rather preferred that over righteous anger or cowering weakness.

"It's about the other day, when Hama was at Haven." Oh. That again. He hoped she would forget what he'd been hinting at that day. He didn't even know the feelings he felt. Jealousy? Jealously when she saw her run into his arms, and speak alone with him for hours on end?

"Is this something important?"

She waggled her eyebrows, "Indeed it is, Hahren."

"Very well."

"What made you so nervous the other day?"

"I was not nervous, da'len."

"So why did you run, or Fadestep?"

"I had . . . business, to attend too."

"Uh huh." And he knew by the look in her eyes, she would not let him forget it. 

A woman, one of Leliana's agents, came, distracting Eowyn from her interrogation. Solas almost sighed with relief. She could not know his thoughts for her. 

When they came upon the chantry priests that refused to honor the inquisition, he had to suppress a smirk when he saw her roll her eyes. Then the templars came. When they arrived, she visibly stiffened, her face devoid of all emotion. Her voice was cold as she spoke, and she seemed to straighten, standing tall in the sun's light; anger glinting in her eye.

And they left, marching out of the city from whence they came. The sound of boots marching in perfect sync filled the air, as everyone stared in disbelief at their retreating backs.

"Well . . . that was bracing." She commented when they left.

"Are you alright?" He asked. She looked at him, surprise written on her face. Clearly she did not expect anyone to notice.

"Yes . . . well, maybe. I'll be alright," and she gave him a small smile.

An arrow flew down, striking near Eowyn's foot. On instinct she pulled out her bow and notched an arrow, swinging it in the direction of where the arrow came from. 

Whoever was there, was gone. 

"It has a note, Herald." Cassandra said, picking up the arrow and handing it to Eowyn. Her brows knit together in a frown as she sheathed her arrow and slung her bow over her shoulder. Ripping the letter open, her eyes skimmed it quickly. 

"It's a warning," she said. Cassandra raised her eyebrows. "Whoever sent this doesn't want to kill me."

"Then let's find out what's going on," Varric said, his hands ready to grab Bianca at any sign of trouble.

Thus began the adventure of finding Sera.

She was an elf who immediately disliked Solas, if her sideways glances were of any reassurance. After fighting the guards that came after them, Eowyn accepted Sera's request to join the Inquisition. 

"Herald!" A mage called as they prepared to exit the city. 

"Yes?" She asked, hiding her annoyance. 

"This is for you." He handed her a envelope with a red seal keeping it shut.

"Seems like people have a thing for you, Sparky." Varric said as she ripped another letter open. 

"It's an invitation to Madame Vivienne's house."

Tracing their step back into the city, they approached a mansion with marble pillars standing guard on either side of it's doors. As they approached the doors, a servant stepped out, bowing before them.

"I'm sorry, but only the Herald is allowed inside."

"Why?" Eowyn asked warily.

"The guests might be disturbed at the appearance of some of your companions," the man said, glancing at Solas and Varric.  

"They stay with me," Eowyn said firmly. "I don't care who Madame Vivienne is. If she has a problem with my people, then we have nothing to discuss." She crossed her arms. Varric was trying to hide his smile, and not doing a very good job.

The man looked as if he was about to protest, but then a tall woman exited the doors. He bowed to her and began to hastily explain, "I told the Herald that the others were not welcome, and she states she will not go anywhere without them."

"It's all right, get back to work," she spoke with authority and with a dismissive nod. He scampered away. "I'm sorry my dear, good servants are hard to come by these days. I am Madame Vivienne."

Eowyn inclined her head, "And you know who I am."

"Indeed, otherwise I would not have requested to meet you." Cassandra raised her eyebrows, Varric fingered Bianca, and Solas was the only one who didn't seem to have a reaction. 

"So, to what to I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Eowyn asked, staring at Vivienne as if she hadn't heard her insult.

"I would like to join you and your Inquisition." 

Doesn't everyone now? This woman looked as if she only wanted in for the power.

After discussing with her the arrangements of her travels, Eowyn walked passed them with a shake of her head, and almost ran into Fiona.

"Maker, what's with all these people?" Cassandra grumbled quietly. 

Fiona pressed her case for the mages, and then left. Eowyn looked vastly annoyed and silently strode on. Varric caught up with her, smiling. 

"This will be a day that will go in my book."

"Same here," she said with a smile. "More like journal though, I'm not a novelist."

"It won't be a novel, it's going to be the sacred truth!" She rolled her eyes. Solas couldn't help smiling as him and Cassandra followed them. 

 

 

                                                                                                                           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from above is from Joanne Harris.
> 
> Nug, I'm not very happy with this chapter . . . it just doesn't feel right. Oh well, hope at least that it was interesting.


	9. Fireflies

_~_ _I'd like to make myself believe, That planet Earth turns slowly, It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep, 'Cause everything is never as it seems.~_

 

"Can I ride on your head?" Sera asked. A question she kept repeating since they recruited him three days ago.   
  
"No. And that's final." Bull replied.    
  
"But we've walked so far," she continued her complaint.  
  
Eowyn looked at Solas who was next to her and rolled her eyes. Those two had been going at it all morning since they traveled from Haven into the Stormcoast. Solas nodded his head in silent agreement, though she was sure he found it amusing as she did. Who wouldn't?   
  
"Bull, if Sera's bothering you, just throw her into a hole. I'm sure there's one around here somewhere." Eowyn said with a smile.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"I just might if she doesn't shut up." Bull mumbled.  
  
They finally fell into silence after a bit, being interrupted by a rift that blighted the sky above them.  
  
Dusk settled over the land, a light mist covering the rocks and cliffs. They all set up their tents away from the sea that roared in the background. Sera was turning out to be an entertaining companion to be with. Already on the first day of traveling with them in the Stormcoast, she had proved to be almost as good of an archer as she. Almost. These thoughts churned through Eowyn's mind as she stared into the crackling fire before her. Iron Bull was hovering over a pot of stew over the fire, Sera was fiddling with her bow, and Solas had disappeared into the woods to collect herbs. The stars twinkled overhead, and she took in a deep breath with a sigh.  
  
"You people are so serious, especially the elfy one." Sera remarked as she sat down with a bowl of stew. Eowyn smiled.  She was only partially correct.   
  
Iron Bull sat across from Sera with a bowl of stew in his large hands, his frame looking overly large for the log he was sitting on.   
  
"Gah!" Sera muttered as she spit out a mouthful of stew. "What's in this? It's disgusting!"  
  
"Hey, at least it's food." Bull replied, looking offended. "It's the nug that Eowyn shot earlier."  
  
At that Sera made a disgusted face, sticking out her tongue. "Ach, no wonder it's disgusting. I'm going to have bread instead."  
  
"Fine." He replied grumpily as he turned his attention back to his stew.  
  
"You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves, I'm going to go hunting." Eowyn said, standing to her feet and grabbing her bow.  
  
"How do you even see in the dark?" Bull asked, looking at her curiously.   
  
"I have elf eyes, remember? The special perk of being an elf."    
  
"Be sure to shoot anything creepy." Sera replied. "Just as long as we don't eat it later." She cast a pointed glance at Bull.  
  
She wandered into the rocky cliffs of the storm coast, leaving those two alone and bickering over the uses of stew. Gripping her bow tighter, she ran lightly through the forest. It was as in the days before, and if Tethera were here it would be just like home. Cold air stung her skin, and she came to a cave that glowed with a faint light. Curiosity pricking at her mind, she wandered to the cave's entrance. Jumping on the jagged rocks, the moonlight filtered through the clouds down on her leaping form. Peeking inside, she found the answer.   
  
Fireflies.  
  
They wandered along inside, a soft green glow emitting from their bodies.   
  
Movement stirred behind her, and turning round quickly with arrow on her string, she came face to face with Solas. He stopped walking up the path.   
  
"Do you intend to turn me into soup next?"  
  
She smiled and lowered her bow, "Never know. Might be tastier than nugs."  
  
"Perhaps. But I'd rather not test the theory," he replied with a smile as he joined her atop the rocks.  
  
"Fireflies. Do you prefer to hunt those now?" He asked with a twinkle in his eyes. Soft light illuminated the sharp angles of his face, and she found herself wanting to trace the lines of his jaw.  
  
Retraining herself, she looked back at the fireflies.  _Why did I even think that?_ she wondered, berating herself.   
  
"Yes, I'm a professional firefly stalker. It's a hard task." She said lightly. They scattered cross the ground as they spoke, and the lights went out, leaving them in inky blackness as the clouds covered the moon. Waves crashing upon the rocks echoed faintly in the distance. With a flick of his wrist, veilfire appeared on Solas' hand.   
  
"No fair," she muttered. He chuckled in response, lighting a stick and handing it to her.  
  
"Better?"  
  
"Maybe." She said with a smile as she walked back down the rocks and to camp.  
  
                                                                                                 ~*~  
  
Rain poured down on them the next morning, soaking them to the skin. Still they trudged on, taking out rifts, much to Sera's complaint. They walked through the trails in the rocks up a hill, when suddenly something roared. Small dragons came from the woods, and the ground trembled in their wake.   
  
"Fenedhis!" Eowyn cursed as one came running towards her. Firing a quick shot at it, it fell at her feet with an arrow piercing it's eye. Bull chopped it's head off with his ax. A dozen ran down the hill.  _As if it couldn't get any worse._ Bull ran towards them with a yell, Sera, Solas, and Eowyn staying a safe distance away. Bull swung his ax round him, keeping their sharp teeth from grazing his skin. Arrows pelted their scales from Sera's bow, and Solas cast a barrage of stones upon them. One growled from behind Eowyn, and she turned just in time to see it jump towards her. She pulled an arrow back on her string, but it was too late. Suddenly she was hit from the side, but not hard. Whatever hit her let her go and she landed to the side of the dragonling. Dazed she turned to see Solas on the ground before it, his shoulder gushing blood from its claws. He lay on the ground still, briefly unconscious. He'd fadestepped. Her heart froze, and adrenaline burst through her veins as it let out a mighty roar. Fool. Solas froze it in place as he tried crawling to his feet. Jumping to her feet, she ran up its back and onto its neck. Pulling a dagger out she jabbed it in the eye as the ice cracked and slid off. Letting out a roar of pain, she held on and kept striking it. Tossing its head, it threw her off and ran blindly up the hill. Her shoulder ached and she let out a grunt of pain as she hit the solid earth. A great crash sounded as it fell off the cliff and onto the stony water below. Yells greeted her ears from Bull, and glancing up she saw him decapitating ones head. He looked worriedly at her before turning to finish his task. Blackness threatened the corners of her vision, but she pushed herself to her feet and raised her hand. It sparked to life at her command, and she opened a rift above the dragonlings that sapped their strength, thus making them easy targets for Sera and Bull. Then she remembered: Solas. Leaving them to finish off their enemies, she searched for Solas, her heart beating faster. He laid on the ground unconscious where the dragonling had been before. Still pulsing with adrenaline she limped towards him, falling to her knees next to him. "Solas," she whispered. He couldn't die. Not now. No one would die, not on her watch. His breathing was shallow, and she noticed he had been wounded in the head and chest as well.  _Fenedhis lasa!_  Rapidly tearing off a piece of cloth from her armor, she lifted his head gently and tied the cloth round his head to stop the bleeding. Such wounds she'd seen before when one of their clan had been attacked by a bear. She knew what to do. Taking a calming breath, she ripped his shirt to find the wounds on his chest, pushing his wolf bone amulet to the side. Three great marks traced his chest, piercing deep into his flesh. Tearing off her gloves, she desperately tried to stop the bleeding. Unclasping his amulet, she placed it around her neck so she wouldn't lose it. The rain still poured round them in sheets. Having torn most available material off her armor, she stopped the bleeding for the moment.

  
"He looks bad Boss," Bull said as he ran to her side.  
  
She let out a bitter laugh. No kidding. "Let's get out of this pit and set up tents in a safe place where I can treat his wounds." She commanded as she stood to her feet.  
  
"How we gonna haul him?" Sera's voice chimed in.   
  
"I'll carry him," Bull answered as he bent and carefully took Solas in his large arms.  _Thank Mythal I brought him along,_  she thought. Going at a slower pace through the woods, they finally made it to a safe distance from the dragonlings nest. Time felt as if it was going in slow motion as Bull set Solas down. Hurriedly they set up a tent for him. Within minutes it was done, and Eowyn spread pine boughs on the ground, throwing furs over it in an attempt to make it softer. Going back out, Bull and her carefully carried Solas into the tent. Laying him upon the makeshift bed, she dismissed Bull with a nod of her head. Quietly he left to set up his own tent. She tucked more furs on top of him, leaving his chest bare. Quickly assessing the situation with Solas, she made a mental note of all she'd need.  
  
"Sera!"  
  
"Shite! Is he dead?" Sera asked, with perhaps a hint of concern as she burst through the tent flaps. Or panic.   
  
"No. When your finished setting up your tent, you and Bull start a fire. The clouds are clearing off. I need some warm water to clean his wounds." She spoke quickly. "Then get some rest. In the morning I need you to run to Haven for help. Send them out here with a cart if you can, and return as quickly as possible. I cannot treat him properly out here."  
  
"Yes ma'am." She said with a mock salute as she left the tent. Ignoring her, she laid her hand on Solas' brow where perspiration gathered in droplets of sweat. He was burning. The bleeding was still stopped, but she was worried about it starting up again. "Mythal, protect this one." She whispered fervently as she had for her parents.  _But Mythal had not answered that day. Would she answer now?_  Sighing, she rummaged through his pack on the search for herbs. Her hand swept over something hard, and pulling it out it was a book on Spirits.  _Seriously? They go out to kill demons and he brings a book to read._  She smiled and shook her head. Carefully setting it aside, she finally found what she was looking for. Grasping elfroot she quickly made a poultice to be placed on his wounds. As she finished, Sera walked in with a bowl of water.   
  
"That's good, yeah?" She asked.  
  
"Yes. Ma serannas." Eowyn replied, taking the bowl from her hands and setting it next to the pile of furs.   
  
"Right, 'thank you' in elvish shite. I mean, you and elfy can say it all you want." She said hastily at Eowyn's glance in her direction. She wasn't upset, she just found it mildly amusing. "Iron Bull's fixin' some horrid soup over the fire. I swear that stuffs toxic!" Sera whispered conspiratorially, causing a smile to spread on Eowyn's face. "There's some extra dried meat in my pack, if you want some." Eowyn offered as she soaked the rag in her hands which were covered in his blood. "Your the best, blondy," Sera said as she stole through her pack. Exiting her tent in a blur, she left Eowyn and Solas alone once more.   
  
Unwrapping the soiled garments that were stopping the blood, she gently washed each wound. Soon the bowl became full of his blood. Bull offered to take first watch, offering a bowl of stew which she declined, saying she needed to watch over him. After refilling the water several times, she finally put poultices on his wounds. His shoulder felt dislocated. She was no healer, that would have to be dealt with by Adan at Haven. Finally she was finished, and dawn was peaking on the horizon. Wrapping the furs around him, she fell asleep curled on the floor wrapped in her cloak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow Fireflies turned into this . . .  
> Quote is from "Fireflies," by Owl City.  
> Elvish I used:  
> Fenedhis lasa~A common curse  
> Ma serannas~My thanks


	10. Healing

_~She ran away in her sleep, And dreamed of Paradise.~_  
  
_A little boy was trying to pull back a bow. Eowyn was crouching next to him, showing him how to use it. The boy pulled it back and the arrow went sputtering a few feet then fell to the ground. She hid a smile as he pouted about not being able to shoot the tree. Demonstrating again, the boy managed to hit the tree. He let out a squeal of delight and ran to retrieve the arrow. Solas watched the dream, it's owner oblivious to the fact that he was watching._  
  
Pain. A white streak of mind numbing pain coursed through his bones, waking him from his dreams. He cracked one eye open, noticing he was in a tent that flapped gently in the breeze. Trying to lift his head, searing pain made him settle back down. Closing his eyes, his brow furrowed in thought.  _What had happened?_  
  
_Ah. That's what happened._  
  
He'd seen Eowyn almost get trampled by that dragonling, and fadestepped but got hit by it's claws in the process. That would explain why he felt terrible. Too think, before he was strong enough that such a thing would not have harmed him. Now he was only a shadow of his former self. He glanced around him, now noticing through the dim light the form of the Herald slumped on the floor. Her hair was caked with blood, and dirt streaked her face.  _Yet still she looks . . . breathtaking._  
  
_No. I must not think like that._  
  
He grimaced when he moved under the pile of furs. His limbs were so heavy as he tried to stretch his right arm towards the cask of water that lay by. When he moved, more pain shot through his shoulder that made him groan and drop his arm. Even just that exertion was wearying.   
  
Eowyn stirred below him at the noise, then started and almost knocked down one of the tent poles in the process.   
  
He almost chuckled, but it hurt his chest. So he said raspily, "Easy da'len, there's only one predator in here." And how true those words were-but she would not understand them.   
  
"Solas . . ." she said as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was undone from it's braid the other day it'd been in and scattered round her shoulders. "It's almost mid-day." Then she looked at him with a scowl. "Why did you do that?" Her tone was accusing as she looked down at him.   
  
"Do what, da'len?" He asked. And truly, his mind was so hazy it was hard to focus on her face.  
  
"Save me!" She said, placing her hands on her hips as if to scold a child. Now he supposed he knew how her little brother must have felt at times.   
  
"Simple: you would have died had I not saved you."  
  
"I could not live with myself if you died. If  _anyone_  died," she rectifed quickly. "I am your leader. I protect you."  
  
"True-in part. You are our leader, but we work together. We protect each other, da'len."  
  
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Your right. And I owe you my thanks." Leaning down she grabbed the cask of water and stepped closer to him. "Can you sit up?"  
  
"Yes," he said as he tried to sit up, then his head swam causing him to fall against the furs weakly. "Perhaps I am mistaken."  
  
She smiled and leaned forward, putting one hand behind his head to lift it gently, the other bringing the cask to his lips. The water soothed the soreness of his throat. "Here I thought you were so tough," she said, gently teasing as she lifted it from his lips.  
  
"Evidently not." He replied as she gently laid his head back. She set it back down, then stirred some contents in it. The scent of herbs filled the tent.  
  
"What is it, da'len?" His brow creased slightly as he stared at it.  
  
"Elfroot and some sleep inducing herbs-a mixture I learned from my Keeper." She looked at him with an apolegetic smile. "Though I'm afraid it doesn't taste very good."  
  
He weakly held up his hand before she gave it to him, "Not yet. I want to learn of what happened after the fight."   
  
"Well, we grabbed you and got as far away as we could." She smiled. "I think you even scared Sera." His eyes slowly closed, and he felt her hands on his brow which made his eyes widen. Eowyn didn't even notice his stare, but instead was frowning. Her hand was soft and cool, and he could feel the callouses traced across her palm. After what felt like only a few seconds she removed herself, and started speaking again. "You still have a fever, you need to rest. No more fadestepping today."  
  
"I couldn't, even if I wanted to." He said with a small smile.   
  
"It will take a few days for them to get back here," she said. "Until then, Bull and I are all you have for company."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Meanwhile, you should rest," she lifted the drink to his lips. Immediately after swallowing it his eyelids begun to feel too heavy. As they shut he left the world of toil for the world of dreams.  
  
  
                                                                                                            ~*~  
  
He was walking, communing with a spirit of wisdom in the Fade. It had found him in their usual meeting place, an ocean of grass with a blue sky above them. The air felt fresh in his lungs, though there was still a slight discomfort from his wound.   
  
"It has been a long time, lethallin," she said.   
  
"That it has. Things have required my attention in the real world." He said, folding his hands behind his back as they walked.   
  
"You feel for this  _da'len_." She said after a moment of silence. He looked at her, surprise written on his face. He had not expected her to discern that.  
  
"How did you-"  
  
"Your always dreaming of her when you walk the Fade." She said with a knowing smile.   
  
"Perhaps your right, but it would be foolish to act upon impulse." He said with a sigh, his thoughts drifting to someone it seemed he could not go a day without.   
  
"She does not know who you are, nor what your mission is."  
  
"No.  _No one_  must know."  
  
"Fen'Harel, I say this because I must: you have tread a long life alone, you could find comfort in this da'len. She is more than the others, not just because of her mark, but because of who she is."  _But is that why I'm drawn to her?_  He wondered, for it  _was_  his magic that dwelled upon her hand. Could that have changed her in any way? Never before had he been drawn to one of the People as he was to her.  "No, that is not why you feel drawn to her." The Spirit said, reading his thoughts with a slight smile. Solas smiled wryly at his friend.   
  
"I am at a disadvantage if you discern my thoughts before I speak them, old falon."   
  
"I must read your thoughts if I'm to get a true answer. You have a habit of keeping your thoughts to yourself."  
  
"A matter of habit, one that I have learned through years of pain."  
  
"Solas," a soft voice spoke, pulling him from his dreams.   
  
"It appears the world is calling me," Solas said, looking at his friend sadly.   
  
"Dareth Shiral, falon."  
  
"Sera's arrived with help to bring you to Haven." He opened his eyes to see Eowyn staring staring down at him. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, her face lined and weary. He felt a pain of guilt for causing such pain.  
  
At that moment Bull entered the tent, interrupting Solas' remorse. He blinked, trying to adjust from the dream he'd awoken from.   
  
"Wagon's ready, Boss."  
  
"Okay. Thanks Bull." Turning, she looked at Solas with a small smile. "You ready?"  
  
"They have arrived without harm?"  
    
"Yes."  
  
"Then let's finish this."  
  
Bull hauled in a stretcher to haul Solas to the wagon. Eowyn twirled a strand of hair around her finger. He wished he could hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be alright. Alas, he could not.  _Indeed, I should not think such things,_ he thought to himself. She was a mere mortal, and he was a God that had made one too many mistakes.   
  
"We'll try to be as careful as we can," Eowyn said. She lifted him by the waist, Bull picking up his legs. Solas privately mused that he preferred this arrangement, rather then having Bulls arms around his waist. He stifled a groan of pain as he was lifted up into the air. Laying him upon the stretcher, she let go of him-but not before she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Or did he imagine that?     
  
Setting her hands upon the handle to the stretcher, she looked at Bull. "Ready?"   
  
"Ready when you are Boss."    
  
"On the count of three. One. Two. Three," she said and they heaved him up. Exiting the flap of the tent, the fading light of the evening sky seemed too bright for his sore eyes. Suddenly he felt the sensation of being lifted higher, and then lowered onto a wooden surface.  
  
"So he's not dead yet?" Sera's voice could be heard through the haze of his mind.   
  
"Disappointed Sera?" He asked.  
  
"Well . . . not really." She almost sounded sincere.  
  
"You and the others stay here and get a night's rest, Bull and I will take Solas to Haven." Eowyn's voice came from above him, and he now noticed she was sitting in the wagon with him. A nervous pulse of excitement burst in him that he stifled away.   
  
"See you later Blondy."  
  
Bull climbed upon the wagon seat, and Eowyn made sure that Solas was comfortable. She stayed with him in the back of the wagon in case if anything occured. With a flick of the reins, the wagon lurched forward as they started upon their path.   
  
"Eowyn . . ." Solas begun. She looked down at him, her brow creasing as if he was about to say something was wrong. "Thank you." She smiled and nodded as if in understanding. "Please, get some rest while you can. You've done all within your power to heal me." He said. Taking her hand in his, he guided her to lay down on the furs next to him. A slight blush seemed to creep up her neck, but she was too weary to care about being proper. "Sleep." He whispered. "Thank you," she whispered back. Her eyelashes fluttered shut, her breathing steady as she fell asleep. He pulled a fur over her small frame. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her hair, he joined her in the realm of dreams.    


	11. Return to Haven

_~They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.~_  
  
The wagon rumbled to a stop. "Hey Boss, sorry to wake you but I thought we should stop here for the night." Eowyn's eyes slowly opened, but she closed them again. "I know your comfortable snuggling with an elf, but I need to take a break." Her eyes flew open at that, and turning her head to the side she realized her face was only inches from Solas'. She quickly sat up, only to be hampered down by an arm that that was laid across her waist. Disentangling herself from him, she glared up at Bull who smiled at her behest. Hopping out of the wagon, she realized how sore she was as her muscles ached with the sudden movement. Solas still slept peacefully.  
  
"How did you sleep, Boss?" Bull asked with a mischievous glint in his eye as she stretched.  
  
"Quite well, thank you. Although, I was  _not_  close to him in the beginning." She said with emphasis on that word. He smiled knowingly. "Whatever you say Boss." He jumped off the wagon seat with a thud.  
  
They had arrived in a clearing surrounded by trees, off the main road. Green grass covered the dirt, with a few wildflowers scattered here and there. They unpacked their bed rolls, then proceeded to take Solas out of the wagon. Quickly setting his stretcher upon the grass, she worriedly checked his forehead. A fever was still running rampant upon his skin. Pouring some water out of a flask onto a piece of cloth, she dabbed his skin. That woke him.   
  
"Eowyn," he whispered. Her hand stilled a moment when he used her name. That was the first time he spoke her name. Ignoring the feeling, she looked down at him with a smile.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
"I've seen better days."  
  
"Don't worry. We should be back at Haven by tomorrow evening."  
  
"I'm not worried. I'm in very capable hands, so there's no cause for concern."  
  
She realized her hand was still laying across his forehead. Quickly drawing it back, she didn't notice his small smile.  
  
"I'll go gather some wood for a fire," she said hastily as she stood up with her bow and headed into the woods. Gathering dry wood in her arms, she headed back to camp with her findings. Throwing the sticks into a pile, she turned around to grab something. A whoosh sound filled the clearing, and turning back quickly she saw the pile of sticks in flames. Her mouth hung open before her brain caught up with her and she clamped it shut. Glancing at Bull she noticed he had the same expression written on his face. They both turned to Solas, who was laying upon his back staring at the stars, as if nothing had happened.    
  
"As long as you don't do that to me, I'm fine with it." Bull said.  
  
"What are you talking about, my friend?" Solas asked innocently. Bull just shook his head and begun making stew over the fire. When he finished, he past out a bowl to everyone. Eowyn swallowed the chunks of meat without protest, and noted with slight amusement how Solas' face contorted when he first tasted it.   
  
"I'll take first watch Bull. Get some rest." She said, fingering her bow that was laying across her knees.  The flames flickered across their faces as she stared into the flames. "Thanks Boss," Bull said as he settled into his bed roll. "Just wake me up if any people decide to start a fight. Wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun."  
  
"It's a promise. We move out at dawn. Unless you need rest, Solas." She added, turning her eyes to his own. The fire seemed to ignite a spark in them, and they shone blue in the shadows of the flames.   
  
"I have been doing nothing but resting, da'len. We must return to Haven as soon as possible." He replied evenly, before breaking their gaze. Bull seemed to not notice anything out of the ordinary.   
  
"When I get back to Haven, I intend to take a long rest. Maybe convince that red head to take a drink with me." Bull said.  
  
"You can dream Bull. You can dream." Eowyn said with a smile.  
  
"I intend to dream of her all right." He fell into a deep sleep within minutes. She stared into the flames, slightly shrugging off the embarrassment when she thought of the incident earlier. _Nothing happened,_  she reasoned with herself.  _So, nothing to be embarrassed about._  Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms about herself.   
  
"The stars are bright this night," a quiet voice broke the silence. Glancing up at the blinking lights above, she agreed. "Thank you Eowyn, I owe you more than I can repay."  
  
"You saved my life, or at least saved me from serious injury. So, there's nothing to repay."  
  
"I could not live with myself if something happened to you,"  he spoke quietly, and she almost didn't hear the words.  _It must be the fever,_  she reasoned. His eyes closed after a few minutes.   
  
  
Picking up her bow she kept watch over her two companions, until dawn rose on the horizon.   
  
                                                                                                        ~*~  
  
As they approached the gates of Haven, Cullen ran out to meet them. "We heard someone was injured!" He yelled as he came closer.  
  
"Yes, Solas," Eowyn replied evenly as she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.   
  
"Well, at least your not injured." He said sincerely before he yelled for the guards to open the gate. Cullen ran next to them as they entered the fortified village. "We have healers at the ready, they will take care of him." He panted as Eowyn jumped out of the wagon. Hastily she opened the back that creaked wearily. Guards ran up with a stretcher. Solas groaned a little as they gently set him on it. Bull already had unharnessed the horses and was leading them to the stables. "There's nothing more you can do," Cullen said, laying a hand on her shoulder as she attempted to follow Solas. She opened her mouth to speak, but Cullen cut her off. "Your tired and you've been taking care of him. It's time to take care of yourself." She looked up into his eyes. They stared at her intently but with an edge of softness to them. She hastily drew herself away. "Alright. I'm fine, but I will check on him later." He nodded. Turning away, she hurried to her cabin. As she removed her armor to wash off, she noticed his amulet was still hanging from her neck. Taking it in her hand, her fingertips ran across it's smooth edges. She briefly wondered where he got it from. Shaking her head, she set it aside. She would return it to him later.   
  
A few hours passed. Restless, she walked over to his cabin, having already checked up on her other companions. She smiled when she quietly closed the door behind her, seeing his sleeping form on his bed. Books were piled in a corner, next to his staff and vest that hung on the wall. His chest rose evenly with each breath as she tiptoed over to where his books were.  _If he carried a book on Spirits around, what sort of books would he possess here?_ She wondered.  
  
A heavy tome labeled with what she assumed was ancient Elven, she opened the book. Pacing back and forth in the room quietly reading, she did not notice the eyes watching her beneath half closed lids.  
  
"Find something interesting?" Solas asked.   
  
Closing the book quickly, she spun around. "I was merely curious."   
  
"I hope what you found was satisfying."  
  
She looked down at what she held in her hands. "I cannot read it. This is . . . old. Where on earth did you find it?"  
  
"I have journeyed many places, Eowyn." She looked up quickly at the use of her name again.  "I'm sure," she answered after a moments hesitation. "I came to give this back to you," she continued, taking the amulet off her neck. Walking over to a table, she gently placed it there. "Ma serannas, I thought I lost it," he sounded relieved. She smiled. "I could teach you how to read that, if you wish," he said as she laid the book down, tracing the words on the cover. She looked back at him with a wide smile. "I would love to! Once your better, of course," she said added quickly. "Ma serannas, Solas. I'll just let you get some rest for now. I'll see you tomorrow." Walking out the door, she didn't hear his last words that were a whisper.  
  
"I'll be waiting." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish translations:  
> Da'len~Little child.  
> Ma serannas~My thanks.  
> Quote is from F. Scott Fitzgerald.  
> Thanks for reading! Please comment and say how you liked it. :)


	12. Harts

_~Stop being afraid of what could go wrong and think of what could go right.~  
_  
Two weeks later, after rest and extensive care, Solas was finally able to rejoin Eowyn and the others on the field of battle. After recruiting Blackwall, they were making their way to Master Dennets farm to acquire the horses they so desperately needed.   
  
As they walked through the forest, Eowyn held up her hand. "Stop. Someone's ahead of us," she whispered. Drawing an arrow on her bow, she looked around cautiously as the others prepared themselves. Pointing ahead into a clearing, they could see Templars preparing their camp. Turning to them she gave them whispered instructions, "Solas, throw a barrier around Blackwall and Cassandra. Varric and I will take out the archers. Blackwall and Cassandra, take out the knight templars so they can't smite Solas. And," turning to Solas she added, "don't get too close to the templars. They aren't dragonlings, but still. We can't afford to lose you, or anyone else." She smiled, "ready?" At their nods, they leashed out their fury in perfect synchronization. After casting his barriers, Solas watched Eowyn as she struck an arrow into an archers throat that was aiming for Cassandra. A loud yell made him realize a templar was running at him, which he froze in place with a flick of his fingers.   
  
And in a few minutes, the battle was over. After looting the bodies, they moved on.   
    
"The farm isn't far from here, I passed it a few days ago." Blackwall said, speaking to Eowyn as they traveled across a broken bridge. Ruins were every where, a testament to the destruction the templars and mages caused, hurting innocents who wanted nothing to do with them.   
  
Finding the farm and taking a week to fulfill their tasks, they returned to Master Dennet to tell him of their accomplishment of what he requested.   
  
"Choose any steed you like," Master Dennet said, "as a reward for what you have done. We have harts if that's what you'd prefer, and the choicest steeds for your companions."  
  
A look of uncertainty came upon Eowyn's face, then she quickly recovered. "Thank you, I'm sure my companions would be happy to not have to walk everywhere."  
  
Leaving the man, they walked down to the stables. But Eowyn stood back. Solas stopped beside her and leaned on his staff casually, as if admiring the countryside.   
  
"Riding not to your taste?" he asked casually.  
  
She looked startled when he spoke up, as if she hadn't realized he was there, "Ir abelas, I didn't realize I had company. I was just . . . thinking. What did you say?"  
  
"You detest riding."  
  
"Perhaps." She replied as she twirled a piece of hair round her finger. He found himself getting rather used to the gesture.   
  
"I shall translate that as yes."  
  
"And if your right?"  
  
"Then I congratulate myself."  
  
She sighed, "Okay, yes, I am. Though I can't exactly keep up with everyone on foot." She kept twisting her hair into knots.  
  
"It's simple."  
  
"Not for me."  
  
"Do you not trust me?" he asked, turning to look into her eyes that seemed to pierce into his very soul. It was unnerving, yet captivating. Her eyes were like the sea, they were calm, yet they could be a great tempest that threatened to sweep him away. He stopped his wandering thoughts and awaited her answer patiently.  
  
She was quiet for a moment as she looked deep into his eyes, then roused herself;  _perhaps she felt the same as he?_  He banished the thought quickly, for neither could afford the luxury.    
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Then come," and he held out his hand to lead her down. She hesitated slightly before taking it, and he realized again just how small the Herald was, her hand swallowed up in his. He tried to ignore the way her hand felt in his, how he felt the urge to protect and hold her.  _I should not be thinking such things. It's not right._ He thought bitterly.   
  
Her hand quickly left his when they joined the group down below, her hair hiding a slight blush as she looked over the horses. A single hart was tied in the final stall.  
  
"There's only three horses and one hart, two will need to double up," Cassandra spoke as she saddled one brown mare that lifted it's head and neighed as if in agreement.  
  
"Very well," Eowyn said, and a look of hope crossed her face, "I can-"  
  
"Ride with me," Solas finished for her before she could escape and end up walking. "We can ride the hart as it is larger, and we are smaller; unless Varric would like to ride with the Herald instead."  
  
Varric smiled, "No offense Sparky, but I think I'll pass. Harts aren't to my taste."  
  
"None taken," she answered, eyes casting daggers into Solas' back as he walked towards the hart. Grumbling under her breath she followed him, much to his amusement as he untied the animal. He turned to her with a smile. "Da'len, do you need my assistance to mount this fine specimen?"  
  
She frowned at him, "Thanks for the help back there, and _no,_  I don't need help." Reaching her hands out, she held onto it's back and hoisted herself up. Once she sat upon it's back, she looked positively terrified; it was endearing and amusing at the same time. Smiling, he nimbly swung up behind her, grabbing the leather reins in front of her.   
  
"What makes you terrified of riding?"  
  
"Because Tethera and I happened to do something foolish, and I broke a leg. I swore I would never ride one again."  
  
"Yet you so easily break your vow?"  
  
"Because of a certain elven apostate who likes to control me made me do it." She held onto her bow tightly that was laid across her lap.  
  
"Don't worry," he said, his mouth near her ear, "I've got you." And he slipped one arm around her waist, holding her close to him; smirking when he heard her quick intake of breath.   
"That's comforting." She replied sarcastically, and he wished to see her face to discern what she was thinking. A moment of silence ensued, and she still lay against him stiffly. Perhaps talking would ease her more. Gently speaking to the hart, it took forward with a leap that made her grab his arm tightly.   
  
"You speak fondly of your brother."  
  
"Yes."   
  
"What is he like?" He gently probed.  
  
"He is determined to become a great hunter when he "grows bigger," as he likes to say." As she spoke her voice softened, and he could feel her relaxing against him.  _Good._ She let go of her death grip on his arm.  
  
"He sounds familiar," he said with a smile as they traveled the road to Haven.   
  
"Familiar?" She queried and turned slightly to look at his teasing smile.  
  
"Indeed," he replied solemnly, "you devote your energies to the skill of a great huntress. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable sight, da'len."  
  
"Indomitable focus?" She asked with a smile.  
  
"Certainly, I have yet to see it dominated." He paused a moment. "I imagine the sight would be . . . fascinating."  _Fenedhis, why did I just tell her that?_  He mentally slapped himself. She was too risky-she made him do things he never would have done with anyone. She laughed lightly, "it would not be fascinating for me, but rather frustrating." He smiled, trying not to imagine the sight of her focus being dominated.   
  
Hours passed as they rode back to Skyhold, and soon she fell asleep in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote I used is from some unknown person. And yup, Eowyn is terrified of harts. One day the story of her "accident" shall be told. Probably by Varric. 
> 
> Elvish translations:  
> Da'len~Little child.  
> Fenedhis~Common curse.


	13. The Future Revealed

_~It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.~_  
  
There was no escape.  
  
She had not expected this. To be thrown into the future with a stranger by her side, by an amulet that held a power no one should possess. The trip to Redcliff was turning out to be more than she had bargained for.    
  
"Well, this is a cheery place," Dorian remarked as they wandered further, trying to find a way through this nightmare and back into the past.  
  
"I agree, we should invite people here for tea sometime."   
  
"Do you even drink tea?" He asked.   
  
"If I'm sick."  
  
"Well, that's lovely. How about a fine Tevinter wine? Seems more fun."  
  
"Can't say I've tasted it before."  
  
He looked at her, mock horror written upon his face, "Truly? That is something we must remedy."  
  
"Right. Perhaps we should just get out of here first."  
  
"I'm sure there will be a large welcoming committee when we get back. If they get emotional, leave it to me. I'm good at cheering people up. They can't help it since I'm so handsome."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "I'll bear that in mind."  
  
"So kind of you."  
  
They kept moving forward as they spoke, coming upon spires of red lyruim that stretched out it's fingers to greet them. A distorted figure lay ahead, red lyruim covering a person. Then a scratchy voice greeted them.  
  
"Eowyn?" The voice sounded so familiar . . . and when she looked up, it was Tethera's green eyes that now glowed a sickly red.   
  
"Tethera!" Eowyn gasped and ran to her, falling on her knees next to her mutated friend. "I'm here. I'll save you." She grabbed her hand, and let go, the red lyruim burning through her glove.  
  
"It's too late. I am sorry. I couldn't save him, Eowyn. He was taken by templars." Tears rolled down Tethera's face. "The clan fought them off as best they could, but we were outnumbered. I lost him. It's my fault, my fault."  
  
Eowyn shook her head. This was the future. This isn't happening.  _But it will if you fail,_  a voice whispered in her head.  _I will not fail,_  she vowed within her heart.     
  
"No. No, you did not fail Tethy."  
  
"Stop them." She whispered, and her head rolled back as her eyes shut with the sleep of death.  
  
"This is the future, Herald." Dorian spoke softly. "We can still stop this from happening once we get back."  
  
"Yes." She stood up and looked down at her dead friend, her face at peace amidst the fiery red. "I will not allow this to happen." And now she realized more than ever why the inquisition needed her.  
  
"Come, we cannot tally here." Dorian said.  
  
Journeying onward, through destruction and death, her worst fear sprang to life in this castle of doom.  
  
"Eowyn!" A voice called, small, scared. A voice too familiar to her ears.   
  
"Who is that?" Dorian wondered aloud.  
  
"Eowyn! Where are you?"  
  
She spun in circles, panic gripping at her heart.  _It couldn't be, it can't be._  
  
"Help me!" And finally she spotted a small body.  
   
Tamel.  
  
Templars had him cornered. He was bound in chains as she had been so many weeks before; except these templars were not so kind to him. Chains held his arms above his head, and his feet were lifted off the ground. A templar raised his sword for the final strike.  
  
Then an arrow pierced his neck.  
  
Eowyn let out a yell, gaining the attention of his captors, who spun around with menacingly red eyes. Not even a shadow of the men they'd been before they became corrupted.  _This blight must end before it spreads,_ she thought as she killed another.   
  
Charging at them with alarming speed, they tried to smite Dorian where he stood casting bolts of electricity. A wave of disarming magic swam through the area, and with a cry Dorian fell to his knees.   
  
"Dorian!" She shouted, letting out an arrow at the man who disarmed him. Dorian staggered back to his feet, and she quickly cast a few more arrows into the bodies of their enemies. "You okay?" She yelled at Dorian as she ran towards Tamel, the templars bodies scattered round them. "Yes." He answered, though a little weakly. Grabbing a sword from one of the corpses, she swung the blade at Tamel's chains. The chains and sword fell with a clatter as she caught Tamel's small body in her arms. He was already gone. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing.   
  
 _No no no no!_ Her mind echoed numbly as she stared at his lifeless form. His face looked older and worn, at least from what she could see past the red disease that ate away his life. She fought back the tears, determined not to show any signs of weakness. Hanging her head, she held back the cry that rose within her. It was a cry full of anger, and anguish. A cry that once released would not be satisfied until this "Elder One" was stopped. And killed.    
  
 "We must move on," Dorian said gently, laying a hand upon her shoulder.  
  
"I know," Eowyn said numbly as she laid Tamel down, closing his eyelids with her hand.   
  
"Who was he?"  
  
"He was my brother," she answered quietly. Getting up, she walked away without looking back.  
  
But it wasn't over. Not yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from Shakespeare. Hope you enjoyed!


	14. Ghosts

_~Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say.~_  
  
Pain.  
  
That's all he felt, all he could think of. It crept under his skin and into his bones, the sickness of the red lyrium slowly killing him. He was slumped against the wall in his cell, his eyes blazing with the red disease. Solas had been shocked when Dorian and Eowyn had disappeared one year ago, when Alexius murdered them both. Right before his eyes, and he was powerless to save them. He grieved silently, wishing there had been more time for him to get to know her. But she was gone. Forever. Everything became worse after that day. The Elder One had destroyed the world, and now Solas was held captive. An old God doomed to die at the hands of lesser men, never having accomplished his true purpose since the beginning. Fen'Harel. He scoffed at the name. If he had a fraction of the power he used to posses, he could have saved them. Saved her. But none of that was possible now.  
  
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway towards his cell, and he stood up stiffly. He was weak and near death's door, but he hoped to at least put up a fight. A final act of defiance for the Dread Wolf to perform before he joined his ancestors in the afterlife. He gripped the wall for balance with one hand, while he tried to to prepare some sort of spell with the other. The footsteps drew closer, and closer.  
  
Finally, a face peeked into his cell. His heart stopped, the spark of his spell going out. He tried to catch himself before his weak body crumpled before them.   
  
"Solas!" She yelled. And it was her voice, her voice that had been silent for so long. A ghosts voice. The cell's door creaked miserably as someone broke it's lock. He felt small hands grab his shoulders and set him upright, leaning him up against the wall. Sapphire blue eyes stared into his own. And he knew he was seeing no ghost.   
  
Eowyn was alive.  
  
"Solas, what happened?" Her voice was worried as she tried to shake him out of his trance. Dorian stood behind her, concern written on his face. "Eowyn, I'm afraid he has what your brother and friend died from. I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do."   
  
"Your alive . . ." Solas whispered as he reached out a shaking hand to touch her cheek. "We saw you die!" Disbelief shook his very being. _How is it possible?_  She took his hand in hers, "I'm here Solas, and I'm very much alive."  
  
"The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak." Dorian explained and Eowyn nodded in agreement.   
  
"Can you stand?" She asked, her eyes full of concern as she stood up, his hand falling from hers. "Yes." He groped at the stone wall for support as she grabbed his hand and pulled him shakily to his feet.  
  
"I suppose your the damsel in distress I'm supposed to rescue," Eowyn tried to speak lightly, but looking into her eyes he could see a sadness that she was trying to hide.   
  
"There's still have some fight left in me," Solas said and smiled with some relief.  _She is here, she's alive._  But, they had to go back in time or all hope would be lost. "What has happened?"    
  
"I was hoping to ask you the same question. Are the others here?" Eowyn asked, and she handed him his old staff that had been lying outside his cage.  
  
"Some may be here. But after you died, everyone was massacred. We put up a fight, but we were overcome in the end by this Elder One."    
  
"We have to get back. We can't do this without you," she said.   
  
"If there is any hope, to save them . . . my life is yours." He swore, though he knew in his heart it had been hers long ago. Not just his life, but his heart.   
  
After discussing what was to be done, they set forth to find a way to reverse the process and go back in time. As Dorian walked ahead of them Solas looked at her searchingly. Her lips formed a tight line and she stared off into the distance, unseeing.   
  
"Eowyn, tell me what happened." He said softly. She kept on walking as if she hadn't heard him. "Eowyn!" He demanded a little more loudly as he stopped her, turning her by the shoulders to look at him. "What happened?"  
  
She slowly raised her eyes to look at him. And when she did they were full of grief and sadness. "My brother, Tamel, was killed. As was my friend Tethera." His heart broke at the words, but she couldn't afford to be distracted. Not now, when there was so much at stake.   
  
"I am sorry. Truly. But you must focus on the task at hand. If you die now, Thedas will suffer for it. You must focus da'len, and go back in time before this all happens! Only you can stop it."  
  
"And what if I can't?" She challenged. "I never knew the situation was this dire."  
  
"You can. And you will. I believe in you." He dipped his head as he spoke. "As does the rest of the world." He raised her chin to look up at him. "Remember this: you are stronger than you think, no matter what anyone tells you."  
  
"I will do all within my power to save everyone. I swear it." She replied determinedly as she stared into his stormy grey eyes.   
  
"Herald! I believe I've found one of your men," Dorian's yell echoed back to them, and Solas let go of her chin. They stared into each others eyes a moment before running to where Dorian was.  
  
They found Bull, who was locked in a cell just as Solas had been, then the last person they found was Leliana. Eowyn stared at her in shock, perhaps longer than any of the others. She looked a thousand years old, her skin wrinkled, her body decrepit. She looked so frail, yet still possessed enough strength to take away a man's life. After recovering from the shock, they found Alexius and broke into his chambers where he stood. Leliana was not one to be controlled, as she killed Felix without hesitation. Yet one could not blame her. And in a way, it was merciful to him. He was a dead man well before they arrived.    
  
"No, my son!" Alexius shouted, his face frozen in horror as Felix's body fell with a thud.  
  
"Felix was a good man, better than you. You must pay for killing my brother and friend." Eowyn snarled as she pulled out her bow, and he cast a bolt of electricity at her. Thus, the battle begun.  
  
Casting barrages, barriers, and whatever else he could muster, when it was over Solas leaned heavily against the wall. He was a walking corpse, and he knew he was living his last few moments on this earth. He tore himself from the wall when Dorian opened a tear in time with the amulet.  
  
"They're coming!" Bull shouted, as the door they had locked was being banged upon. Hundreds of demons were outside, eager for blood.   
  
"We'll stop them to give you some time!" Leliana shouted as she left Eowyn.   
  
"No!" Eowyn shouted, grabbing her arm. "You will not stop them, you'll be killed and you know it. This is suicide, and I _won't_  allow anyone to die for me. Too much blood has been shed."  
  
"If you don't escape, this will happen and the hope of the world will perish! You need to go now!" Leliana commanded sternly as she tore away from Eowyn's grasp and ran towards the door, Bull at her side. Eowyn's eyes slipped to Solas'. He stepped closer to her, and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Ir abelas da'len."   
  
"Solas, please . . ." She began, her eyes searching his desperately.  
  
"Ar lath ma vhenan," he said, and leaned down, touching his lips briefly to hers. Tears glistened in her eyes as he turned around and walked away. And he spoke the truth. He hadn't admitted it to himself before, but he loved her. And he was sorry. Sorry that he hadn't said anything before, sorry he hadn't stopped this, sorry he hadn't saved her. And this was the only chance he had to say so. He looked back over his shoulder, to see her watching him.   
  
"Go!" He shouted. Leliana, Bull and Solas ran through the door, Dorian sealing it shut with a few whispered words. It shut with a final and sickening thud as the demons poured forth. Solas gripped his staff tighter. Bull swung his ax, and Leliana cast arrows upon the demons. The demons surrounded them, and he was running out of strength. Bull went down with a yell of rage as demons tore at him, and Leliana was soon overtaken. The demons clawed at him, drawing closer and closer. In one final act of defiance, he swung his staff down with one last spell to cast. It was suicidal, it would kill both him and the demons, but he knew he would die anyway. He vowed he would not let his enemy take his own life, let it be by his own hand.  _Let this nightmare come to an end._  He murmured the spell under his breath as he kneeled on the ground, and as his staff struck the ground a bright light enveloped him and those around him. A wave of magic swept through the area, causing the demons to fall to their deaths. He slowly fell over, never letting go of his staff. Her face was the last thing he thought of before his eyes closed. Lying limp on the ground, the demons went past his body and burst through the door.    
  
But they were too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from Mitch Albom.  
> Elvish I used:  
> Da'len~Little child.  
> Ir abelas~I'm sorry.  
> Ar lath ma vhenan~I love you, my heart.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	15. Her Return

Eowyn watched in shock as Solas and the others ran to their deaths. For her and everyone else. "Go!" Solas shouted when he saw her staring, and she turned and ran to where Dorian stood with the amulet. A shiver ran down her spine and her eyes sparked with anger when she heard Bull let out a yell of rage as he fell in battle, while she stood there unable to save them. She started to move of her own accord to help them, but Dorian grabbed her arm. "You move, and we all die!" he yelled as he held her back. A rift opened up, and she cast one last glance over her shoulder to see the hall shake with a burst of magic, and the doors open as demon's tread over Solas' body. And then, everything vanished as green swirled around them. They stumbled through the break in time and walked back into the past. They arrived at Redcliffe castle, just where they had been in the beginning.  _They're alive,_ she thought in astonishment when she saw the others standing there, unharmed. The rift closed behind them. "You'll have to do better than that." Dorian said as Alexius stepped back from them. He fell to his knees in defeat.  "Alexius, surrender now and you and your men will be taken into custody. Your son will not be harmed." Eowyn's eyes burned with rage despite her calm veneer; the image of her brother's and friend's death's emblazoned on her mind.  
  
"You won," he sighed, "there is no point in extending  this charade." He hung his head in defeat as they bound him in chains,.   
  
"Well, I'm glad that's over with," Dorian said cheerily. A great clatter arose from the halls doors, and a squad of guards wearing Fereldan's crest marched in. A woman stood in the center of them, her face stern and demeanor condescending. Her blond hair was pulled back in a elegant bun whilst she wore a grey gown that clung to her skin. "Or not," he finished as they entered.  
  
"Grand Enchanter Fiona." The woman said sternly as the guards parted from around her and marched to their posts along the hall.   
  
"Queen Anora," Fiona acknowledged, walking towards her, her green robes rustling slightly.  
  
"When we offered your mages sanctuary, I thought it was understood that they would not force my people from their homes." Her eyes gazed upon the Grand Enchanter, accusing.  
  
"Your Majesty," Fiona began humbly, clasping her hands together, "let me assure you we never intended any of this."  
  
"Your intentions ceased to matter when my people were threatened!" Her posture was straight and tall, and Fiona seemed to shrink before her. "I am rescinding my offer of sanctuary, you and your followers will leave Fereldan at once."   
  
"But we have hundreds that need protection. Where will we go?"  
  
"I believe we can help," Eowyn said, stepping forth from the shadows. "The Inquisition might be willing to take in the mages."   
  
"And what are the terms of this arrangement?" Fiona asked warily as her dark eyes appraised the Herald.   
  
"Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you," Dorian said. "The Inquisition is better than that, yes?"  
  
"It seems we have little choice, but to accept whatever you offer."  
  
"We would be honored to have you fight as allies at the Inquisition's side!" Eowyn said, and she meant it. They needed the mages, despite how her advisers would be hesitant to admit it.  
  
"A generous offer. But will the rest of the Inquisition honor it?" Fiona questioned, her gaze searching for truth.  
  
"The Breach threatens all of Thedas, we cannot afford to be divided now." Images of the corpses of her friends and brothers flashed through her mind. She had made her decision, no matter what the others might think. "We can't fight it without you. Any chance of our success requires your full support."  
  
"Whether you accept the Inquisition's alliance or not, you will leave my kingdom," Anora stated. She barely glanced at Eowyn, who didn't mind being ignored by the woman.   
  
"We accept. It would be madness not too. I will gather my people, and ready them for the journey to Haven. The Breach will be closed, you will not regret giving us this chance." Fiona vowed, and Eowyn shook her hand. "Welcome to the Inquisition, Grand Enchanter Fiona. We will see you there." She then turned to the Inquisition's soldiers. "Prepare to move out!" she commanded. "Felix . . ." Alexius began as he stared at his son, his eyes devoid of hope. Felix crouched down beside him. "It's going to be alright, Father."  
  
 "You'll die."  
  
"Everyone dies."  
  
Eowyn walked towards Felix and whispered, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. "I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye. I'm sorry." Felix nodded at her before she exited the room and found her companions near the entrance. Solas glanced at her and she looked away, unable to make herself stare into his eyes that were not tainted by disease and death. The memory of his death, and the others, was too fresh in her memory.   
  
"Well, that was quite an adventure," Dorian said with a grim smile when he saw her, his arms crossed and back resting against the wall casually.    
  
"Yes, let's not make a habit of it," she answered with a small smile, suddenly thankful that she wasn't the only who had to go through that. Perhaps it was selfish, but she couldn't make herself be sorry for thinking that. The Tevinter's presence was reassuring during their . . .   _adventure_ , in the future.  
  
"I don't know Boss. Everywhere you go strange things seem to happen. What happened anyway?" Bull asked as he leaned up against the doorway, his heavy frame blocking out the sunlight. She smiled, glad to see that the lyrium disease wasn't clinging to him as it had just minutes before.   
  
"The future." Eowyn replied and walked briskly past them. When she was out of earshot Dorian turned to Solas who was watching Eowyn out of the corner of his eye. "By the way, your Solas, right?"  
  
"That I am," Solas confirmed, turning his grey eyes towards Dorian that hardened as he subtly assessed the new mage.   
  
"Are you and the Herald, you know, together?" Dorian asked innocently as he twirled his mustache with his fingertips. Bull tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye at the turn of conversation.  
  
"Certainly not, why would you ask such a thing?" He stared back at Dorian, now curious himself to how the mage came to make such an assumption.   
  
"Just curious my friend."  
  
"I trust your curiosity is sated?" Solas asked, holding his staff between his hands and slightly leaning upon it.   
  
"It is for now. We Tevinters like to know everything." Soldiers began to march past them as they conversed, and, as the sun lay low on the horizon, they began their march back to Haven with Alexius in chains. The future was just beginning.  
  
                                                                                                           ~*~  
  
After meeting with Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine, Eowyn walked from the Chantry building, her limbs heavy and mind deep in thought. She didn't notice soldiers staring and whispering as she passed, nor the cold wind that blew snow across the ground. Her mind was in a whirl, considering the future should she fail. All she wanted to do was sleep, but her mind would not let her. So, she paced aimlessly down the trails. So many preparations must be made for the mages arrival, and nobles must be dealt with. Nobles who disagreed with the alliance with the mages. She sighed heavily. She was getting tired of all the damn politics behind the war. And now they truly were at war. This Elder One was a greater threat than she had realized. No humans would be left alive under his rule, just creatures twisted with disease. If that could even be considered truly living, as all would eventually die. Then there was something,  _someone,_  she had never considered before. A thought that had never crossed her mind until earlier that day.  
  
Solas.  
  
What did he mean by proclaiming his love to her before he met his death? Did he love her even now? Perhaps she was fickle for considering having feelings for a man when there was so much at stake. She shook her head as if she could clear her mind of the thoughts. And . . . feelings? Yet, no matter how hard she tried, they continued to plague her. Love was a risk she didn't know if she was ready to take. Sure, fighting demons and sealing rifts was no problem, but love? Didn't that cause more trouble than good?   
  
The next few days flew by in a whirl of preparations and planning. Mages came, setting up their tents and becoming a part of the life at Haven. Once they all arrived it'd be time for them to try once more to seal the Breach. Everyday she would stare at it as it swirled above them, knowing that it could cause her death. The mark would spark to life now and then, as if it knew her thoughts. She spent her time managing things with Cassandra, avoiding Solas and the others. This did not escape the dwarve's notice.  
  
"Sparky, can I talk to you for a minute?" Varric asked as she spoke with one of the mages. She nodded at the mage in dismissal, the man giving her a questioning look before leaving her to talk with the dwarve. "Yes?" Eowyn asked, turning towards him with her brows furrowed together. Varric rubbed his neck and looked her straight in the eye. "I heard what happened to you and that Tevinter. Is everything alright? You've been keeping to yourself and staying so busy hardly anyone's seen you."  
  
"I'm alright, Varric," she crossed her arms, giving him an even gaze.   
  
"Really? Is that why you've been avoiding everyone? Especially Solas?"  
  
Her eyes sparked in surprise, but then they hardened. "A lot has happened. Things I cannot take lightly. I cannot, I just . . ." she trailed off as she stared into the distance.  
  
"Can't what, Sparky?" Varric asked gently.  
  
"I cannot afford to be distracted . . . nor can I fail."   
  
"What happened between you and Chuckles?"  
  
"Nothing." She said sharply, perhaps a little too sharply.  
  
"So that's why you've been avoiding him. Makes perfect sense."   
  
She frowned at his words and then sighed. "In the future, he said something that surprised me. And I don't know what to make of it."  
  
"So the currant Solas has no idea what's going on? I can see he's worried about you. He asks about you, and then remains silent if I try asking him if anything happened."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You don't know if he knows, or you don't know what to make of anything?"  
  
"Either way, Varric, I must accomplish this first."  
  
"Do you care for him? I've seen love before, and it's a stubborn thing."  
  
She ran her fingers through her hair, "I don't know! What am I to make of what he said?"  
  
"What did he say?" Varric asked patiently. "You can trust me Sparky."  
  
"He said 'ar lath ma vhenan,' before he died. For me. For Dorian. For the Inquisition. For Thedas." Then she added softly, "and he wasn't the only one who died."   
  
"What on earth does that mean?" He asked as he looked up at her. She looked at the ground for a second, preparing her answer. Finally, she spoke.   
  
"It means 'I love you' in Elvish." She kept quiet about the vhenan part. It felt too private to share with anyone. Being someone's vhenan, well, she thought it was a once in a lifetime occurrence. And if Solas truly loved her, how could she afford to love him back when so much was at stake? How could they both afford to love?   
  
"Course Chuckles would say it in Elvish. Look, if he said those things in the future, he must love you now. In the future he's only known you as long as he's known you now. So, he must care for you now."  
  
"That sounds slightly confusing."  
  
"Trust me, love is confusing."  
  
"But how can I afford to be distracted?" She paused and looked him hard in the eye. "Is it worth the risk?"  
  
"Sparky, if I was faced with the same choice as you are faced with now, I would take the risk. Believe me, you'll regret it your whole life if you don't."  
  
She looked thoughtful for a moment, "Well, it's something I can't avoid."  
  
"Love never is. But you should talk to Solas, he's worried though he doesn't admit it."  
  
"Your right. I shall do as you've suggested. One thing you should know: I do not love him. At least, I don't think I do."  
  
Varric laughed, "You remind me of Hawke. By the way, have you read the 'Tale of the Champion,' yet?"  
  
"Some, it has been quite busy as of late. How do I remind you of her?"  
  
"I've known Hawke a long time, and one thing I've learned is that she's as stubborn as hell."  
  
"Perhaps we do have something in common," Eowyn said with a smile.  
  
                                                                                                       ~*~  
  
"Ah, I see you've returned from your catatonic state. Welcome back," Dorian said cheerfully as Eowyn walked over to him where he stood outside a cabin, having just finished discussing things with the healer.   
  
"I've missed you too," she smiled wryly as she sat leaned against the wooden building. The sun shone down as a crisp breeze blew back tendrils of hair that had escaped from her braid. She had to squint her eyes to look at the man who stood a head taller than her, and she began to take note of his appearance. His skin was a carmel color and stretched over tight muscles, his black hair wavy and combed back, and his mustache. His mustache is what she found most amusing. None of the Dalish in her clan ever had a mustache, and she found his particularly fascinating.   
  
"Have you seen Alexius yet?" She asked, before she stared at the mustache for too long.  
  
"No, I haven't been able to bring myself do so. I saw him before they locked him up. He looked . . . despondent, broken. Not the man I remember, nor the man I want to. I suppose the Inquisition will judge him eventually. I wonder if there's any chance they'll show him mercy. He hardly deserves it, but I can't help hoping there's something left of the man I once knew." Sadness lurked behind his brown eyes, and Eowyn felt a surge of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly as she stared at the snow.  
  
"Don't be. It was his own fault. His urge to heal Felix is what caused this, nothing more. He was a desperate man. And desperate men do desperate things."  
  
"How is Felix?" She asked, bringing her eyes up to look into his own.  
  
"He's . . . dead." He whispered quietly, looking at the snow.  
  
"I'm sorry. Has anyone told Alexius yet?"  
  
"No, I can't bring myself to deliver the news."  
.  
"I will." Somebody had too. After all, Felix was his only son.  
  
"You don't have to, you know."  
  
"I know. But someone has too."  
  
After chatting about the mages and Dalish for a few minutes, Dorian added, "someone's been watching you." He nodded his head towards Solas' cabin as he spoke. "I'm curious, how is a bald man with no style at all, attractive to a woman such as yourself? Granted you haven't confirmed you care for him, but from what happened in the future I think I have a pretty good guess."  
  
"I need to speak with him." She said, her posture stiffening as she stared at the cabin.   
  
"Yes, I'm sure you do. Don't take all night, the inquisition would be lost without you."  
  
"I trust you'll take care of them," she threw over her shoulder as she walked over to Solas' cabin, the snow crunching beneath her feet. He was sitting inside his room at a desk. She walked inside the familiar room that she had entered many times while he was wounded, a smile pulling at her lips when she saw him staring intently at a book. Light streamed through the window, casting an orb of light about him.   
  
"Solas," she said softly, feeling that she was intruding. The memory of the kiss flew to the forefront of her mind, but she tried to push it away. He was the first man that ever kissed her, and that happened to be in a future that was dark and foreboding. She almost grimaced at the thought.  
  
"Something on your mind, da'len?" He asked as he turned his piercing grey eyes upon her.  
  
"I . . . I just wanted to apologize for not being around for the last few days . . . if that makes sense." She trailed on, staring intently at a speck on the wall that was so . . . fascinating.  
  
He chuckled. "It's alright. Your a busy woman, and the inquisition requires a lot of attention."  
  
She smiled looking back at him, "You've finally decided to call me a woman. What an honor, they should put it in the history books."  
  
"You've proved to be quite capable of handling yourself. Though, I still believe 'da'len' is a befitting title." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes.  
  
She crossed her arms and leaned back, jutting out her hip. "Really? I may be young but I'm hardly a child."   
  
"No. But I find it fitting nonetheless."  
  
"Your a strange man."  
  
"Some may agree with you."  
  
"How about your spirit friends?"  
  
"They think I'm quite normal. So, the answer would be no."  
  
"I'm sure I'll find someone who agrees with me. I know Dorian will."  
  
"Have you and the Tevinter been discussing me behind my back?"  
  
"Only in matters that concern the inquisition."  
  
"I don't know whether to be comforted or disturbed."  
  
"Your a smart man, you'll figure it out." She looked out the window, glancing at the soldiers performing their tasks. A sigh escaped her lips, a sigh that Solas did not fail to notice.  
  
"Are you all right?" He asked quietly as he studied her, as if trying to decipher her thoughts.   
  
She glanced back at him. "Your not the first person to ask me that."  
  
"What happened, when you and Dorian were sent into the future?"  
  
"Things that disturbed me. Greatly.  I saw my brother . . . " she let the words hang in the air as she remembered the frozen look of death on Tamel's face. An image that would be burned into her mind for eternity.  
  
"He died." Solas stated softly, as if he truly understood. She looked him in the eye after that.  
  
"Yes, and he wasn't the only one. Everyone died. Now I've been given the chance to stop that. It will never come to pass."    
  
"It is vital the Inquisition succeed, to avoid the future you witnessed. Only you can end this chaos." The words reminded her of what he said to her after her brother died.   _You must focus da'len, and go back in time before this all happens! Only you can stop it._ His words helped her succeed, and would continue to do so. He stood up slowly and walked over to her, and she had to tilt her head to look into his eyes. A light splattering of freckles covered his nose that she hadn't noticed before, and she found it endearing.  
  
"Most people have trouble wrapping their heads around the idea." She said as she continued to stare up at him.   
  
"I'm not most people."  
  
"I appreciate you talking with me about it. And  _not_  being most people."  
  
"If you wish me to speak of Orlesian fashion, I may be at a loss. Magical surprises I can handle."  
  
She laughed. "Thank you, for everything." She turned around and slipped out the door.   
  
"Always." He whispered as she left, his eyes soft and sad.   
  
_~*~_  
  
"Alexius." Eowyn said as she walked towards his prison cell. Shadows flickered on the walls from the torches, and a dank smell arose from the ground. It smelled all too familiar from her time in the cell.   
  
"What more do you want,  _Herald_ of Andraste?" He spit out the words, not looking up from where he was seated. He stared blankly at the room before him, his hands clasped together.   
  
"Your son . . . he's dead." She said, coming to a stop before his cell as she looked down at him with some pity in her heart. But she would never be able to forgive him for the future he almost brought to pass. Even if it was for his son.    
  
His face twisted in grief as the words meaning dawned upon him. "No . . ."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"How? Because of you he's dead! I could have saved him!" He yelled as he jumped to his feet, striding to the iron bars and gripping them. "I could have saved him . . . but because of  _you_ he's dead."   
  
"And do you know how many lives would have been killed if you succeeded? I watched  _all_  the ones I love die, because of you!" She challenged, her voice brimming with rage from the memory. "Felix wasn't even alive, he was just a shell, devoid of life. Your son was dead from the first."  
  
His face fell at her words, all his rage being replaced by sorrow. "Please, if you have any respect for a man's grief, leave me."  
  
She bowed her head. "As you wish." Walking away from him, she strode from the cells without looking back. Avoiding the memories of when she had been held captive in here. And avoiding memories of the future that would never come to pass.   
  
"Eowyn!" Cassandra's voice echoed off the walls when Eowyn walked up the stairs and entered the hall of the Chantry. "All the mages have been accounted for. They are ready to seal the Breach, if you are."  
  
Eowyn smiled. "I'm ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Dorian's mustache is sooo fascinating.


	16. One More Attempt

Haven bustled with activity as the chosen mages prepared to journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Anxiety was thinly veiled by everyone as they tried to go about their normal tasks. The Herald and Seeker weaved in and out among them, giving orders for them to follow. Solas watched curiously as he stood on a hill overlooking the tents, leaning easily upon his staff. The sun shone brightly, and the hills echoed with the footsteps of hundreds as Cassandra gave the order to move out. Moving soundlessly on the snow, Eowyn came to stand beside him.  
  
"I'm certain Cassandra already told you we will need your assistance," she said without looking at him, her eyes watching the people ascending the trail to the temple.   
  
"Cassandra always stays on top of everything. Are you ready?" He spoke as if she were a student about to partake of a serious test, though he was certain she would succeed.  
  
She looked at him with a smile. "I welcome this day with open arms. Let's go." He suppressed a smile as they turned to walk up the trails to the temple. It was as before, dark, desolate, deformed corpses lying upon the ruins. They passed them by without speaking, eyes ahead on the Breach, a silent sense of horror and determination falling upon them all. Entering the temple the mages lined up around the walls as the Herald, Cassandra, Varric and Solas stood below. The Breach shone above them as if it were daring them to try to stop it. Eowyn curled her hand into a fist by her side as it sparked with the power of the Fade, her eyes staring up at the breach. Varric stood beside her and Eowyn looked at him with a smile. "I thought you didn't like all this magic."  
  
"I don't, but I figured you'd want someone cheering you on," he replied with a small smile, though his eyes betrayed his nervousness.  
  
"Don't worry, Varric, I'll be fine."  
  
"You will Sparky, you will." She nodded at him as she began to walk towards the Breach, it's light reflecting in her eyes.   
  
"Mages!" Cassandra yelled, calling the mages to attention. Solas walked past her, holding up his staff in the air as he spoke. "Focus past the Herald. Let her will draw from you!" He stretched out his hand towards them. The mages stood at attention with their staves in their hands, their hoods casting their faces in shadow. Eowyn reached out her hand and the Breach opened. It's magic enveloped her as it crackled and sparked. His face stern and commanding, Solas gave the signal for the mages to channel their magic through her. As one, they cast their staves upon the ground and the thud echoed against the stone walls. She thrust out her hand, the magic channeling through the mark and spiking towards the breach in the sky. Then, with a mighty crack like thunder, a bright light burst and sent everyone flying. Solas landed upon the ground, his ears ringing loudly. The magic swirled to the Fade, and the Breach sealed into a calm sky. He stood up quickly, his heart beating faster as his eyes roamed in search of her.  
  
And there she was.  
  
Bending upon one knee, she glanced up at the sky with a smirk before standing to her feet. "You did it," Cassandra said breathlessly. "Well done Sparky, well done." Varric said as he stared at the sky himself. The mages stood up and cheered, and Solas watched her with a smile on his face.   
  
The heavens were scarred, but calm.  
  
Once they made it back to Haven, people were already celebrating in the streets. It had been many years since he had observed such honest rejoicing. Music was being played by the bard, who was singing merrily at the top of her lungs, and even the barkeeper was handing out drinks. The mages quickly joined in the festivities. Everyone was at ease. He noticed Eowyn standing at the edge of the dancing crowd, clapping her hands in time with the music and eyes shining brightly. Relief filled him that she didn't seem to be weighed down by some invisible force as she had been during the past weeks. He weaved in among the people, completely unnoticed by them all, until he came to stand before her. Before he would've been more cautious about displaying his well hidden feelings, but this was a time for celebration so he cast his reservations aside. This wasn't over, the Elder One still needed to be dealt with and there were smaller rifts to be sealed, but for now they were safe. If only he knew how wrong he was.  
  
"Well done da'len," he said as he approached her. "You have sealed the Breach, as you did the others."   
  
She looked at him with a smile. "Thanks to a few special people." Then her gaze turned serious, "But from what I saw in the future, the Elder One will come. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but he's coming."  
  
"You are correct," he admitted with a dip of his head. "This Elder One will come, and soon. But come, now is a time for rejoicing, not nervous chatter." He held out his hand to her, and she hesitated a moment before taking it in her own as she smiled. "Yes, I won't let this Elder One ruin my entire existence."  
  
"That is good to hear, da'len," he said as he led her onto the streets. There was no specific dance, people were just taking each other's arms and swinging in circles, creating their own rhythm to the music. She laughed when someone dragged her and Solas into the circle, adding them to the chain of swaying bodies. The bard's voice sang clearly above the laughter, and time seemed to slow as dusk fell.  
  
Then, the alarm bells rang over Haven. People slowed the dance and the bard stopped singing, until there was not a sound but the marching of a multitude far off in the distance.   
  
"Forces are approaching! To arms!" Cullen commanded as he ran to gather the people for battle. Immediately the crowd scattered, running for their weapons and armor while mothers found their children and took them to the Chantry. Eowyn did the same as the soldiers, grabbing her bow that was laying nearby. Blackwall, Sera and Solas followed her, grabbing their weapons along the way. "This bodes poorly," Solas said, his heart sinking at the sound of the bells. They ran swiftly across the earthen road. When they approached the gate, Cullen spoke, "One watch guard reporting. It's a massive host, the bulk over the mountain."  
  
"Under what banner?" Josephine asked, coming to stand next to him.  
  
"None."  
  
"None?"  
  
Someone was ramming on the gate, a voice calling out to them to open it. "Open the gate!" Eowyn yelled as she drew out her daggers. A young man with a floppy hat was being trailed by red Templar's. Running through the open gate, she slashed the Templar's that were tempting to overrun him, but soon found that he was capable enough on his own as he impaled one that ran up behind her.  
  
"I'm Cole. I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know." Cole said, taking steps closer to her. He was dressed in a well worn gray shirt and pants, sheathing his daggers on a belt around his waist. Blond hair hung over his pale blue eyes.  
  
"The Elder One," Eowyn stated grimly. And Solas knew she was right.  
  
"The Red Templar's went to the Elder One. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." He then pointed towards the mountain, "There." A tall creature rose above the horde of Templar's that marched down the mountain. Beside him a lone Templar stood, seeming to shrink next to him. "He's very angry you took his mages." Immediately recognition dawned upon Solas. Corypheus, the Elder One? Now all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together.   
  
"Fenedhis," Eowyn whispered as she beheld the Elder One.  
  
"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster we must control the battle. Get out there and hit that force. Use everything you can!" Cullen commanded as he placed his helmet on his head, the helmet having the likeness to a lion's mane. He drew out his sword as he turned to the mages. "Mages! You-you have sanction to engage them! That is Samson. He will not make it easy! Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!" As he turned and upheld his sword the soldiers did the same, letting out a mighty cry of war.  
  
And so it began.  
  
Cole ran back into the fortress as the Herald led her companions towards the trebuchets. The army was drawing closer, it's scouts coming soon upon them. Eowyn and Sera gripped their bows, showering finely edged arrows upon the first few men that ran towards them. Solas stood back, killing one now and again but saving his mana for when the worst of the battle would come upon them. Within a few minutes Eowyn and Sera had to draw back and allow Blackwall to scathe through the groups that were running towards them, while casting arrows upon the ones on the outskirts. Solas began to use more of his magic, his staff tightly held within his fist. The Templar's were twisted, some almost made completely of red lyrium. Blocking a sword with his shield, Blackwall spun around and decapitated a man in one strike. Eventually they made it to the trebuchets, where Sera and Eowyn hurried to fire them while Solas and Blackwall held them off. Sera grasped the wheel with her hands, yelling at Eowyn to go and help the others. She spun around quickly, notching an arrow to her bow and firing it. It twirled through the air, hitting it's mark in a Templar's throat. Inquisition soldiers joined in the fray, swords clanging upon one another. A sound thud echoed throughout the area when Sera set off the trebuchet, the explosive flying quickly through the air, a whistling sound following it in it's wake. Landing upon a snowy mountain it exploded in bright flames. Snow tumbled down the mountain, rolling faster and faster as it fell upon the Elder One's army in the valley. Everyone cheered when it hit it's mark.  
  
Then, a dragon swooped down and set fire to the trebuchet. Sera jumped away from the flames as she swore loudly. It exploded into shards of wood, soaring into the air then falling back onto the earth. The explosion sent everyone flying back. Solas crawled to his feet slowly, his head in pain from a board whacking him in the side of the head.   
  
"Everyone, get back to the Chantry!" Eowyn yelled over the dragon's roar.    
  
Quickly they ran back within Haven's walls. Villagers cried out for help as the Templar's came, slaughtering all who were unable to protect themselves. Solas cast barriers around his companions as Templar's ran towards them in the streets where there had been celebrations just hours before, and now carcasses lined it's paths. Buildings were in flames from the dragon's wrath. Magic swirled around his hands and staff as he threw a stone punch at Templar's that were trying to flank them on the right. One arrow narrowly missed Sera's head, and muttering an insult she dodged it and let an arrow fly towards the archer, hitting him in the chest. Sera and Eowyn were almost running out of arrows, and had to run and pull out ones they had stuck in fallen enemies, and taking arrows from fallen archers. "Fall back to the Chantry!" Eowyn yelled when they had rescued all the villagers they could find. They slaughtered all that stood in their path, finally rushing through the heavy doors of the Chantry.    
  
"Move! Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!" Chancellor Roderick yelled as villagers ran through the door. His hand was gripping his stomach, attempting to stop the bleeding from a grievous wound. His face was bloody and worn. They ran past him quickly, and Cole caught him in his arms as he fell towards the ground. The Chantry was full of people who were standing there nervously, mothers holding on to crying children and soldiers preparing to fight. Solas and Blackwall shut the doors quickly.   
  
"He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep. He's going to die." Cole stated while holding Roderick's arm over his neck, helping the Chancellor walk away from the now closed doors of the Chantry.   
  
"What a charming boy," Roderick said raspily.   
  
"Healer!" Eowyn called. A man wearing black ropes of a mage ran over at her command, his graying chestnut hair mussed up from the battle. "Give this man medical attention so we don't lose him." Nodding in understanding, the Healer pulled out bandages from his pack as he walked towards Roderick.    
  
"Herald!" Cullen said as he jogged towards the small group. Solas was drinking some lyrium positions to regain more mana, and Sera and Eowyn were searching about for arrows while Blackwall was wiping blood off his blade. "Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us." His face was etched with worry, blood stains soaking his armor.  
  
"I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the Fade. But it looked like that." Cole said as he sat the priest down and helped the Healer tend to his wounds.   
  
"I don't care what it looks like. It has cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"   
  
"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald."  
  
"Doesn't everyone?" Eowyn said exasperatedly. "If you know why he wants me, just say it."  
  
"I don't. He's too loud. It hurts to hear him." His blond hair still hung over his eyes. "He wants to kill you. No one else matters. But he'll crush them. Kill them anyway. I don't like him."  
  
"You don't like . . . ?" Cullen began, but then turned to the Herald. "Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."   
  
"We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven." She said, her brows furrowing at what he suggested. Tendrils of hair were falling from her braid, her breastplate was covered in blood and her hands were slightly shaking.  _This must be the first real battle she's been involved in,_  Solas noted. They had fought many creatures before, but not an army.  
  
"We're dying. But we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."  
  
Chancellor Roderick looked slowly to the other side of the Chantry, wherein lied another door. "Yes that." Cole said softly. "Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies." Solas cocked his head curiously at the boy, taking notice of him more carefully.   
  
"There is a path," the man began, "You wouldn't know it unless you made the summer pilgrimage. As I have. The people can escape," he continued as he stood up slowly, making the Healer frown as he tried to make the Chancellor sit back down, but the Chancellor waved him away with his hand. "She must have shown it to me. Andraste must have shown it to me so I could . . . tell you."  
  
Eowyn smiled grimly, though Solas could see the fear behind her eyes. "Cullen, lead everyone away from here. If that thing is here for me, he'll have to do better than this."  
  
"And when the mountain falls? What about you?" Cullen asked softly, making Solas eye him carefully. She kept silent as she grabbed more arrows to put in her quiver. "Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way . . ." He then turned and walked towards the soldiers. "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!"  
  
"Herald . . . if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you." Chancellor Roderick said as Cole helped him walk. Eowyn nodded her head in understanding, her face slightly paler than before, but determined. Solas knew that this could be their last fight, but he didn't want to be anywhere else. Even if he had the choice.   
  
"They'll load the trebuchets," Cullen said as soldiers ran past. "Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the treeline. If we are to have a chance-if  _you_  are to have a chance-let that thing hear you."  
  
They passed through the doors and walked onto the streets. It was eerily quiet. Darkness had overtaken the day, and bright orange flames brightened the streets as it inflamed the buildings, revealing red corpses that blazed in it's light. They slaughtered whoever stood in their path, making it once more to a trebuchet. It towered above them, their last symbol of hope if they were going to be able to borrow enough time to allow the others to escape. Twenty Inquisition soldiers were already there, and had it loaded and ready to fire.   
  
"Sera," Eowyn began, "stand over there by those crates, you'll have a clear shot at anyone who comes down that trail. And Blackwall," she added, turning towards the Grey Warden, "you'll lead the soldiers against the Templar's that come down that path and keep them away from the trebuchet. Solas, you guard my back while I turn this thing. Archers, get with Sera and wait for my signal." She paused for a moment, and a breeze blew down the mountain, blowing tendrils of hair back from her cheeks. "You all heard Cullen, when they send up the signal we fire this thing. Let's kill these bastards!"  
  
Solas held his oak staff in his hand steadily, awaiting their enemies. Archers stood in the back with Sera. Blackwall stationed the soldiers around him, ready to greet their enemies. They stood with their swords held in their hands, their faces pale and thinking of their families who were escaping on the mountain path. "Maker protect us all," a woman whispered, her hair graying but her hands were strong.    
  
Within minutes Templar's came down the path, behemoths covered in chunks of red lyrium as they lumbered towards the waiting soldiers. The archers notched their arrows to their strings, awaiting her signal. As they came within range Eowyn yelled "Fire!" unleashing her own arrow. They arched in the air, then spiraled towards the earth. Templar's held up their shields to protect themselves, but some were too late and fell upon the path, blood seeping from the arrow's wrath. "Fire!" Eowyn yelled again as the Templar's regained their steps and ran yet again. This time more fell. "Aim for the big ones!" She commanded again while the behemoths ran towards them without falter.  
  
"Blackwall!" She yelled.  
  
"Steady soldiers," he said, "wait for it." They drew closer and closer. "Now!" He yelled as he ran with his sword towards them, the Grey Warden's symbol of a griffon on his breastplate glistening in the moonlight. A symbol of hope for all of Thedas. Letting out a cry they ran towards the enemy, slashing and crashing against the enemy lines. Quickly Solas cast barriers around them all, but then had to pay attention to Templar's that were closing in on him. With a snap of his fingers a Templar froze in his path, sword upheld and ready to strike. The archers let loose what arrows they could, thinning those on the outside who tried to flank them. The battle wore on and on. When there were breaks in the fight, Blackwall would regroup the soldiers and Eowyn readied the trebuchet. Three soldiers had fallen so far, including the woman who was praying to the Maker. Again the Templar's ran down the path, and again they slaughtered them. This time five soldiers fell to their deaths.   
  
"Draw back and regroup!" Blackwall commanded, his dark beard even sporting flecks of blood. Wearily the soldiers fell back, some dragging their dead comrades with them. Eowyn's eyes scanned the treeline where Cullen said he would light a signal, but there was none.   
  
Then, before she could fire the trebuchets wrath, the dragon flew above them. "Move!" Eowyn yelled, her face gaunt and pale as the dragon flew straight at them. Solas hesitated a moment before jumping out of the way of the path of fire the dragon blew down. It seemed to explode, separating the warriors from their leader who was lying prostate on the ground.    
"Eowyn!" Solas yelled as he jumped to his feet, but burning embers separated him from her, and she did not notice his cries as she laid upon the earth. "We gotta go, elfy, or we're all gonna die!" Sera shrieked as she began to run towards the Chantry, where the trail was hidden and therein lied the path to safety. The eleven soldiers that were left alive stayed, awaiting Blackwall's command. All knew there was nothing they could do. "Sera's right, we'll burn to death if we stay here. There's nothing we can do." Blackwall reasoned, stepping closer to him.   
  
"I can't leave her behind!"   
  
Eowyn's form was cast in shadow as a dragon swooped down in a blaze of flame, and a creature so twisted and horrible strode towards her through the flames. A face that looked too familiar. Corypheus. "We have to go now!" Blackwall yelled as Solas stared helplessly and in horror, and he felt someone grab his arm. There was nothing he could do. Once more he was powerless to save someone. Her eyes flickered towards his one last time, locking gazes with him before Blackwall dragged him away, and she disappeared from sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun.  
> Elvish I used:  
> Fenedhis~Common curse. 
> 
> Dragon Age and it's characters (c) Bioware.


	17. The Elder One

Time slowed as the flames engulfed where they had stood, the explosion flinging their bodies through the air like rag dolls. Falling thirty feet from where she had stood, Eowyn laid on the ground, the breath knocked out of her lungs. Smoke and flame caressed the area, and in the distance someone called her name. Slowly she raised her head, the world spinning round her. A giant creature, with crusted fragments of armor burned into his skin, strode towards her. She glanced to her side and saw Solas being dragged away from the flames that separated them by Blackwall. The man was yelling at Solas, but he didn't seem to hear. His face was pale and full of horror as he focused on her, his gray eyes devoid of hope. She knew then she only had one choice.  
  
Live.  
  
He disappeared as Blackwall dragged him away with the other soldiers.  _At least he will be safe,_  she thought to herself.   
  
This all happened within a matter of seconds, and time seemed to regain it's pace as she pushed herself to her feet. The creature drew closer, and the dragon came running up behind her with a roar that shook the ground. A face horrible in it's features glared down at her, eyes red with fury.  
  
 _Ah shit.  
  
_ She spun around towards the dragon with her daggers unsheathed, in hands which no longer shook, her eyes searching grimly for a way to escape. But there was none.   
  
"Enough!" The creature commanded as the dragon made to strike, but at it's words it drew back obediently. Eowyn stared right into it's yellow eyes, wishing she had her bow at that moment.   
  
"Pretender. You have toyed with forces beyond your kin. No more." She turned around and looked at the creature, glaring.  
  
"What are you?"  
  
"Mortals beg for truth they cannot have. It is beyond what you are. What I was. Know me. Know what you have pretended to be. Exalt the Elder One. The will that is Corypheus!" He then stretched his hand towards her, as he spoke deliberately and calculatingly. "You will kneel."  
  
"Whoever you are know this: I will stop you, and I will never surrender," she spoke calmly, her voice not betraying the anger now burning within her. So much death and destruction would occur if she failed, and she knew she could not.  _Would_  not.    
  
"You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not." He pulled out an object, and held it in his uplifted hand. The object was small, round, with creases dug into it's surface. Snowflakes gently fell around them. "I am here for the anchor. The process of removing it begins now." At his words it began to glow with red magic, as if it were alive. He stretched out his hand that glowed with the same magic, and sending out a burst of energy it connected with Eowyn's mark, causing it to spark to life. Her hand began to ache, causing her to drop her daggers. "It is your fault 'Herald.' You interrupted a ritual years in the planning. And instead of dying, you stole it's purpose. I do not know how you survived. But what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." With a curl of his fist the sparks ignited, the pain becoming worse as Eowyn fell to her knees, gripping at her hand. The dragon drew closer, with a small roar of approval. "And you used the anchor to undo my work. The gall!"  
  
"What is this thing meant to do?" She choked out, glaring daggers into the creature's eyes.  
  
"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it." He strode over and picked her up by her arm, and she shrunk beside him.  His height was equal to two men, and he stood as tall as the dragon. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the old Gods of the Empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world. Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the Gods, and it was empty." He threw her through the air, causing her to hit the trebuchet with her head. Stars blinked before her eyes as she sank to the ground, her head bursting with a new pain. "The anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling." Grasping at her boot she pulled out a spare dagger that she kept there and stood shakily to her feet, leaning against the trebuchet for support. Corypheus and the dragon drew closer. "So be it. I will begin again. Find another way to give this world the nation-and God-it requires."  
  
In the distant hills a flaming arrow shot up to the night sky, and Eowyn felt a spark of hope ignite within her heart.   
  
"And you. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die." Corypheus said, and she knew she didn't have much time. She glanced at the trebuchets handle out of the corner of her eye and stepped forward with her dagger, ready to perform her task.   
  
"You expect me to fight, but that's not why I kept you talking," she said with a smirk. "Enjoy your victory. Here's your prize!" She spun around and kicked the handle with her foot, causing it to spin and the chain to reel as it flung the explosive into the air.  It hit the mountain and exploded, causing another avalanche to tumble towards them. With a roar the dragon picked up the Elder One and flew into the sky. Eowyn turned and ran, the snow falling close behind her, and then was falling into the darkness.   
  
Head aching and ears ringing, she awoke hours later inside a cave. She got up slowly, resting a hand against the icy cavern wall for support. Taking in calming breaths, she began to make her way forward, step by step. There was no other option but to keep moving, though she was weary and just wanted to rest. Eventually she made it out of the cave, and snow blew harshly across the earth, whipping her hair about her face. She shivered, hugging herself tightly with her arms, as they had no bow to hold. All she was armed with was her last dagger she had hidden on a chain around her neck. Wolves howled in the distance, making her proceed warily. Gripping her dagger, she prepared to attack anything that threatened her life. She kept moving forward, passing campfires the refugees had made in the snow.    
  
Hours passed until, finally exhausted beyond her strength, she fell to her knees in the snow. Slowly she closed her eyes, shivering. She lost herself to the darkness and fell.   
  
Nearby, a lone wolf howled into the night sky and red eyes pierced through the darkness, watching her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is super duper short, but the next chapter from Solas' perspective will explain more and will be longer. And yeah, this chapter really stuck to the game's dialogue. Corypheus has such awesome lines, I didn't want to change them lol. Plus it explains his purpose better than I could.


	18. Mountains Of Snow

When the snow had fallen down the mountainside, Solas watched in despair. It came crashing down with such force that the fires of Haven disappeared from sight, with Eowyn in it's path. His heart sank in his chest to think that she could be buried beneath it's wrath. To save them all.   
  
"I'm sorry," Blackwall said. "But we must move on." Solas nodded. Blackwall stared at him for a moment, sympathy written on his worn features before he moved on. People passed him, until all that was left was Solas among the footprints in the snow.   
  
He started running back down the mountain path. Slowly, his form began to change. Thick black fur began to replace his clothing, his eyes pooling to blood red, as he descended on all fours.  
  
He was a wolf.  
  
Snowflakes gently fell from the sky as he ran, heart racing as it pumped blood through his veins. It had been a long time since he had taken this form. A brisk wind funneled through the valley and the trees, blowing about wisps of snow. Wild wolves howled in the distance, and his eyes hardened. If she didn't get buried beneath the snow, the wolves could find her. And he doubted she was in the condition to fight. He knew she had survived her meeting with Corypheus, who now called himself The Elder One. How else could she have fired upon the mountain, giving the refugees time to escape? He now ran across the snow that was now settled over Haven, burying the burning embers. Sniffing where the trebuchet was smashed to pieces, he caught her scent. It disappeared after a few yards, leaving him once more in the unknown. Gritting his teeth he searched again. This time he began to head north, bounding across the snow.   
  
There was no sign of her.  
  
Desperate, and in anger, he paused. Glaring up at the stormy night sky, he howled, his voice piercing the air. Wolves farther away answered him, the one who was both man and beast, mage and immortal. Fen'Harel, he who walks alone. As a chorus of howls ascended to the stars, he stopped, his keen eyes noticing footprints forgotten in the snow in the distance. He bounded forward, his giant paws flinging snow behind him. Breathing in deeply, he inhaled her scent. It was her. Eowyn, the one who had captured his heart, the one who brightened his existence with her smile. The one who needed him now more than ever. Hours had passed since he had begun his search, and finally he caught sight of her. Her arms were wrapped around herself, trying to retain some heat in her body. He circled around her, knowing she'd be frightened and try to defend herself if she saw him. Suddenly she stopped, and slowly fell to her knees. Her eyes were about to shut from exhaustion, but before they did they glanced to where he was standing. Face pale and lips blue, she fell unconscious. Running over to her, he changed back into human form, using his magic he kept his clothes intact.   
  
"Eowyn," he whispered, falling to his knees beside her. Resting his hands over hers cold gloved ones, flames began to dance upon them, sending sparks of warmth through her body. Her eyes fluttered open.  
  
"Solas?" She murmured.  
  
"I'm here lethallan," he whispered softly, brushing tendrils of hair back from her face, "your safe."  
  
Her eyelids fluttered shut again. Scooping her up in his arms, he began the long trek after the refugees. She had been heading the right direction, so there was no need for him to change his course. He held her close to his chest, trying to protect her from the brisk breeze. She never woke once. After an hour of walking, he saw a party of ten men ahead.   
  
"You found her!" Blackwall exclaimed in surprise when he drew near to the Inquisition soldiers. Blackwall ran towards him, relief etched on his face. "You've been gone for hours, we thought you had gotten lost."  
  
"She is in great danger. We must bring her to the healers." His chest was heaving with the exertion, his arms weary from cradling her in his arms. Yet he wouldn't let her go, not even when Blackwall offered his assistance.   
  
"This way," Blackwall said, "It's a few more miles."  
  
They had managed to pitch up some tents in the snow filled valley they were in, high up in the mountains. "It's her!" Cassandra yelled to the others when Solas came, carrying the one who saved them all. "Is she alright?" Cullen asked worriedly when he and the others ran up to him. Everyone was worn and tired, but rejoiced when they heard the Herald was alive. "We had sent out search parties, but we had to tend to our wounded and families here."  
  
"No, she needs healing. Is there a place where she can rest?"  
  
"Follow me, we're bound to have some empty tents." Leliana said, motioning him to follow her with her hand. They placed her upon a makeshift bed, made out of tree boughs with old furs thrown over it. Not the most luxurious accommodation, but she would be more suited to it than others. It lied beneath a small tent that offered some shelter from the frigid wind. "Cullen is getting some healers, she'll be alright," Leliana reassured him, her hooded cloak hiding her eyes as she stared at the Herald.   
  
"Thank you," Solas said. Leliana nodded at him in understanding as she left. He tucked the edges of the blanket around Eowyn, trying to make her body regain some heat. The healers arrived soon after, placing herbs and potions around the bed.  
  
"We can handle this," a woman said in a thick Orlesian accent, with dark hair and eyes resting upon a drawn face. "You should get some rest."  
  
He nodded his head numbly, but didn't leave her side.  
  
"You know, it might go faster for the healers if they didn't have a doting mother watching their every move," a voice chimed above the quiet murmur of the camp. Solas looked up to see Dorian standing at the entrance of the tent, resting his hand against the pole. Despite his light words, his brow was furrowed with worry as he glanced at Eowyn. After being through so much together at Redcliffe castle, Solas knew Dorian would be loathe to see anything happen to her.   
  
"Perhaps. But I wish to stay here until she recovers."  
  
'That's admirable, but it's not going to help her heal any faster."  
  
"I know."  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"Cold. Pale. Once she's warmed up she should be alright. No wounds were suffered from The Elder One."  
  
"Brave girl, I have to give her that." Dorian sighed quietly in relief at his words.   
  
"Indeed," Solas agreed, staring at the sleeping woman. The candle's light cast shadows across her face that was as white as snow, a stark contrast to the black furs lying upon her chest.            
  
"Don't worry old chap, she'll be fine in no time." Dorian said with a pat on Solas' shoulder before he left. A few minutes later the healers were finished, saying there was nothing more they could do. Solas watched her, until finally exhaustion overcame him so he sat on the floor, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.   
  
A few hours later he awoke. It was still night, just an hour before the dawn. Eowyn's eyes were still closed in slumber. He pushed himself off the hard surface of the earth and stood up, glancing once more at her pale face before leaving the tent. It was best to leave before she woke.  
  
A day past with her still deep in sleep. He checked on her every few minutes, but the Revered Mother Giselle assured him that she would watch over Eowyn. So he waited. He contemplated how to tell her the orb Corpheus carried was Elven, of their people. The orb he himself gave to him. But she could never know the last part. She could never know who he was.  
  
That evening, while he was deep in thought as he sat and stared at a fire's flames, a voice began to sing softly into the clear air.   
  
 _Shadows fall  
And hope has fled  
Steel your heart  
The dawn will come.  
The night is long  
And the path is dark_  
 _Look to the sky_  
For one day soon  
The dawn will come.  
  
More and more voices joined the first, adding to the human symphony. The chorus of voices drew him in, as they ascended in prayer and hope to the very heavens. He walked towards them, staying on the outskirts of the crowd. Leaning upon his staff he gave a small smile, watching everyone gather round the Herald and sing this song of hope. The dawn will come. Eowyn's face was still pale, but wore a certainty of her fate. She wore worn leather armor with a fur cloak covering her thin shoulders, yet in the firelight she looked like the queens of old. A surge of pride welled within him. Pride that she had achieved what no other could, that one of their own people was beginning to rise above the storms of chaos. The world was changing, and they were in the center of that change. When the song ended, he walked up to her from behind.  
  
"A word?" He asked as he walked past.  
  
She nodded her head as she turned to follow him up a mountain path away from the others. When they reached their destination, he flicked his wrist, lighting a pole with the blue light of veilfire that sparked off his hands.  
  
"The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Your faith is hard won, lethallan, worthy of pride. Save one detail. The threat Corypheus wields. The orb he carried. It is ours. Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. We must find out how he survived. And we must prepare for their reaction when they learn that the orb is of our people." He had spent the day carefully considering how to deliver the news, not revealing the details that would unmask his true identity. Clasping his hands behind his back, he awaited her reaction to the news.  
  
She looked him the eye, slightly shocked but determined. "Alright. What is it and how do we go about it?"  
  
"Such things were foci, set to channel power from our gods. Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon. All that remains are references and ruins. Faint visions of memory in the fade, echoes of a dead empire. But however Corypheus came to it, the orb is Elven. And with it, he threatens the heart of human faith."  
  
"But we're stuck here. We can't fight a war when we're lost in the mountains. We must get out of here first, set up a base of operations so we can strategize how to defeat him."  
  
"You are correct. By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it, changed you. Scout to the north, be their guide. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build, grow. It will take a few days, but we'll be able to find it."  
  
"What sort of place is this?" She asked.  
  
"Skyhold."  
  
She nodded, staring at the ground, deep in thought. As she turned to leave he added softly, "I'm glad to see you have recovered. There's not many who survive encounters with men who declare themselves gods."  
  
She looked at him with a smile on her face, "I wasn't alone. Thank you."  
  
Then she walked away from him, down the mountain path. And he wondered how, after living thousands of years, someone so young could make his heart feel so alive.  
  
The next day, with the help of Cullen, Eowyn prepared the Inquisition to move out. Her days as a scout were useful while she led them as Solas recommended, across the mountain paths, higher and higher into the sky. Until, on the third day, they reached their destination. Cresting the top of a hill, Eowyn looked down to see a fortress with a bridge that ran to it. It's spires and towers reached to the heavens, a heavy fortress made of stone. Solas stood beside her, a slight smile on his face. Eowyn stared at it in wonder, her eyes wide.   
  
"Skyhold," he stated quietly.  
  
She nodded, not saying anything, as she walked down the mountain's path to the bridge. Everyone followed, glad to have reached the place that would become a symbol of hope for all of Thedas. The Inquisition had only just begun. 


	19. An Inquisitor

Broken down buildings and dusty ceilings is what greeted the Inquisition when they entered the ancient fortress of Skyhold. Snow capped mountains that rose high to the heavens surrounded them. The snow had stopped falling from the sky as hundreds of people: men, women, and children, crossed the bridge that rose above the earth. Eowyn peeked over the edge of it's railing as they crossed over, marveling at how high they were from the ground below.   
  
"I hope this bridge is sturdy enough to hold everyone," Iron Bull commented as he came to stand behind her. He placed both of his large hands on the stone railing, leaning his weight against it as he looked down.  
  
She grimaced as she glanced at her companion. "I agree. Falling that far would be rather unpleasant."  
  
"I wouldn't put it past you though, Boss," Bull said with a smile as he tilted his horned head to look at her. "Like I said before, trouble just seems to follow you."  
  
"Your right. With our luck it'd be Corypheus set a bomb beneath it and a rift would open above us. It would be a grand finale."  
  
"Now your making me worried."  
  
"Don't worry. If anything happens I'll just hide behind you."  
  
"That's unfair."  
  
She laughed as she thumped him in the shoulder, "Let's go explore this new castle of ours." They walked the rest of the way across the bridge. Successfully, without the bridge even trembling.    
  
"How old did you say this place is, Chuckles?" Varric asked as they entered the courtyard, snow still melting in forgotten piles.  
  
"The time it was built I am not certain of. I have seen it many times while journeying the Fade. Ancient memories and spirits reside here." Solas said as he stared at the towering rock walls and gate they had just entered.   
  
"That just sounds like creepy shite," Sera muttered from where she stood as people milled around them, exploring their new haven as they hauled in their meager belongings. Sera looked around warily, as if some spirit was waiting to come out and spook her.  
  
"There are no spirits who reside here at present. You have nothing to fear, Sera." Solas said, and Eowyn noticed a roll of his eyes at Sera's words. She hid a small smirk as she looked at the large castle.   
  
"It's still creepy."  
  
"A lot of things are creepy now," Varric observed.  
  
"Are you guys going to stand and debate on nonsense or are we going to celebrate?" Dorian asked, twirling his mustache between his fingertips while holding his staff in his other hand when he joined the small group.  
  
"There will be time to celebrate later. First we must assess the damage and make repairs," Cassandra stated as she strode past them, having heard only Dorian's words.  
  
"Spoil sport," Dorian muttered beneath his breath as he stared grumpily at the Seeker.  
  
"Don't worry, half the time we'll be here making repairs and the other half will be spent closing rifts. We won't have time to celebrate until this is over," Eowyn said cheerfully as she left to explore further.  
  
"That's a pleasant thought," Dorian replied dryly, "I hope I won't break a nail."   
  
Cullen and Cassandra separated everyone into groups, organizing a place for the sick, herding the horses into the broken stables, and soldiers moving into barracks. Eowyn ventured into the castle doors that creaked wearily as she pressed them open. Perhaps a thousand years had passed since one had opened it's doors. A large hall with many doors leading elsewhere is what greeted her. Cobwebs hung in corners and on the ceilings, and dust sparkled in the evening light that filtered through the high windows. Broken boards that had fallen from their original places lay scattered across the floor. She let the hood of her thick fur cloak slide off her head, revealing her blond hair that flowed over her shoulders and to her belted waist. She breathed in deeply. The air was not thick and musty as she had expected it to be. Instead it smelled as the fresh mountain air that dwelled outside it's walls. She walked forward slowly, turning in circles as she went further in to stare at the castle around her.  
  
"It's beautiful, new, the air of hope hanging around you," said a voice that made her jump, her right hand pulling out a dagger as she turned around, the edges of her cloak swishing around her. Behind her was Cole, staring at her unabashedly.   
  
"Oh, it's you," she said, sheathing her dagger.   
  
"Just me. No one else." She studied him for a moment as he stared back at her, unfazed by her assessing eyes. "You wonder who I am, why I'm here. I'm here to help."  
  
"You can read minds?" She asked, crossing her arms.  
  
"I don't read, I feel. Emotions, pain, happiness. Whichever is strongest I feel. You are bright, like a star. You feel weary, but you wonder at a place like this." He started walking towards her as he spoke, slowly taking each step while she stared at him. His eyes seemed distant as he focused on feeling her emotions. "And you hope now. You were starting to lose it before. When you saw everyone you love die." At those words her face paled.   
  
She cleared her throat, glancing at the tips of her black boots before looking back at him. "Your right. But I've never spoken of this to anyone."   
  
"Because you don't want them to know you're afraid." He replied, standing before her now.  
  
"Yes." She said, staring up at him and into his pale blue eyes.  
  
"Especially Solas."  
  
She took a quick intake of breath, "How is that possible?"  
  
"I'm a spirit. Not a mage. Not a demon. I'm not as the others think I am." He paused as he looked at her thoughtfully. "I'm different, but you don't see me as an enemy. You're different, too."  
  
She smiled, "Don't worry, no harm will come to you, I'll speak to the others." Vivienne's face came to mind as she said this. The woman was a hard one to deal with, and they had quite a few arguments regarding her decisions in the past. "Can we just keep this between us? I'd appreciate it if the others didn't know."  
  
"I promise. You can trust me."  
  
She held out her hand, "I know. Welcome to the Inquisition, Cole."  
  
He shook it gently, smiling, "I like you."  
  
She laughed then, a light, silvery sound. "I like you too." Taking her gloved hand away from his she glanced up at the high ceiling. "If you talk to Cassandra I'm sure you could find a place to stay."  
  
"Thank you. I know of a place." He then disappeared with a whoosh, and she shook her head and smiled.  
  
"What a weird thing this has turned out to be," she muttered beneath her breath before she went off to explore the rest of the castle.  
  
When she ran back down the stairs from an old library, she came into a rotunda that had creamy tan walls and broken pieces of furniture scattered about. She looked around curiously at this new sight.   
  
"Enjoying yourself, da'len?" a familiar voice spoke from the doorway. She looked at Solas with a smile.   
  
"Yes. I've never been in a castle this big before."  
  
"What about Redcliffe?"  
  
"I like this better."  
  
He smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."  
  
"So," she started, motioning to his small pack of belongings he held in one hand, "is this where you are going to stay?"  
  
"Yes." He glanced around the room. "It will suffice. I have stayed in many less pleasant dwellings."  
  
She smiled as she begun to walk past him. "Have fun settling in, Chuckles." She threw over her shoulder as she exited and entered the great hall once more. Solas watched her with an amused smile on his face before he shook his head.  
  
That evening Eowyn settled into her own room at the top of Skyhold's headquarters, at Cassandra's insistence. The next week past quickly. Repairs were being made, and Skyhold was beginning to look once more like an ancient fortress of power. People, recruits, civilians, ones who lost everything they owned, began to journey to Skyhold's walls. A beacon of hope and safety for all of Thedas.  
  
"Eowyn," Cassandra called as she entered the great halls of Skyhold, wearing her Seeker armor. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"  
  
Eowyn nodded as she strode towards her. "What is it Cassandra?"  
  
"They arrive daily from every settlement in the region." She said, motioning to even people that were inside the halls. A dwarf was in a corner, arguing with an elf over some piece of stone the dwarf held in his hands. "Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage. If word has reached these people, it will have reached The Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus. What drew him to you."  
  
"The mark is all he wanted. Also to conquer the world, but I think everyone pretty much understood that part."       
  
"Yes. But your decisions let us heal the sky, your determination brought us out of Haven. You are the creature's rival because of what you did. And we know it. All of us." They walked down the stones steps as she spoke and into the sunlight. Leliana stood at the end of the platform with a sword held out in her gloved palms. A beautiful sword, it's long steel blade flashing in the sun. "The Inquisition requires a leader. The one who has already been leading it." Leliana took a few steps towards Eowyn, offering her the sword. "You." Cassandra finished. Eowyn stared at it in shock, having not expected such a conversation to turn into leading the Inquisition. People had gathered below them, and she could see Solas and Varric standing near it's edge. Varric was smiling broadly as he crossed his arms against his chest, and Solas nodded, urging her on to take the sword. She looked back at Cassandra.   
  
"Are you sure this is what you want? An elf, who is inexperienced in the world, to lead an army?" She asked truthfully, knowing that someone like Cullen would be more suited to the task.  
  
"There is no one else that I would trust more," Cassandra said with a smile. Eowyn picked up the sword in one hand carefully, testing it's weight.   
  
"I will lead us against Corypheus. And I will be an ambassador. I'm an elf standing for Thedas. The Inquisition is for all." She said softly.   
  
"Wherever you lead us," Cassandra said as she stepped forward. "Have our people been told?" She yelled down at the crowd, looking at Josephine.    
  
"They have. And soon, the world."  
  
"Commander, will they follow?"  
  
"Inquisition, will you follow?" Cullen yelled amidst a loud chorus of voices cheering. "Will you fight?" More cheers. "Will we triumph?" He pulled out his sword and faced Eowyn standing above them. "Your leader, your Herald, your Inquisitor!" She held up the sword in the dying light, amidst the cheers of the Inquisition's people. Solas smiled as the people thronged around him to accept their leader.  
  
Later, when dusk had settled over the land casting darkness and shadows, she sat on the edge of her stone balcony. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, smiling. As the sun set behind the snowy mountains, she wondered. About Tamel, Tethera. _What were they doing? Were they safe? And did the Elder One know about them?_ She frowned slightly at the last thought, her brow creasing. If he did know about them, how could she protect them? A crisp breeze blew across the land, causing her open glass doors to creak. She wore a simple Dalish gown that was white with blue stitching threaded upon it's edges, shaping hallas and flowers. One that she had found while rummaging through some old rubble in Skyhold. Humming a tune her mother had taught her when she was younger, she almost didn't hear the knock on her door on the other side of the room. Pausing, she looked up. She got up quickly, her bare feet padding across the floor before she pulled the door open slightly to see who was outside. It was Varric. He wore a red linen shirt with elaborate golden stitching over loose fitting pants. A perfect image of the dwarven owner of a merchants guild.   
  
"Varric, come in," she opened the door wider, standing aside to allow him entry.  
  
He smiled broadly. "Congratulations your Inquisitorialness." He made an elaborate bow in the doorway, causing Eowyn to laugh.   
  
"Thank you Varric. But please, the bowing makes me feel weird. We're friends, not aristocrats."  
  
He laughed, a light chuckle that bounced off the close walls as they walked up the small stairway to her room. "I just couldn't resist."  
  
Eowyn laughed with him while rolling her eyes, "I've never known you to be able to resist."  
  
"You're probably right." He glanced around the wide room that was her headquarters and let out a low whistle. The room was large, with a master bed near one end that was carved from oak, old furs lying across it. A desk stood at one end, reports from Cullen and Josephine resting upon it.  "Not too bad."  
  
She glanced around as well, "Indeed. I've never stayed in such a place. It's a little different. Takes some getting used to."  
  
"No wonder. Oh," he begun, "the reason why I came here is because I have someone that I think you'll want to meet. An old friend of mine. We ran into Corypheus a few years ago. In fact we killed him."  
  
"What? How is that possible?" She stared at him, eyes wide.   
  
"I've been wondering the same thing. He  _was_  dead. Put a few bolts from Bianca in him myself." He shook his head. "That guy is in some weird shit."  
  
"Who is it that I'm meeting?" She crossed her arms while looking down at her dwarven friend.   
  
"Her name is Keira. You'll know her once you meet her. She'll arrive in a week, I sent off a letter after we arrived."  
  
Her eyes widened when she realized who he was talking about. "I finished your 'Tale of the Champion' before Haven was destroyed. It will be an honor to meet her."  
  
"I'm sure she'd say the same thing about you. I better get back to my papers, some fun merchant deals I have to take care of. Sometime we should swing by the tavern, grab a drink. It's on me. Maybe play a game of Wicked Grace."  
  
She smiled, "Sounds like fun. I'm sure Bull would want to join us."  
  
"You're right. Just don't drink whatever he offers you, I've heard it's terrible."  
  
Laughing she followed him as he exited the door, "I'll be sure to."  
  
He turned around and glanced at her, his gaze turning serious. "You remember what I said about Solas before we left Haven?"  
  
Her face sobered. "Yes. And I have given thought to it."  
  
"I hope you decide to take the risk." He said softly before he left her alone with her thoughts in the night.  


	20. Old Friends

Craftsmen that had joined the Inquisition were busy repairing the damage age and neglect had brought to Skyhold, but surprisingly the fortress was in better condition than one would expect. Solas had cleaned out his rotunda, placing a desk in it's center with stacks of books he had managed to find, some of them as ancient as the fortress they dwelled in. After scrubbing the walls free of grime and cobwebs, he pulled out a brush one morning and began painting on the walls that were fresh as new canvas. With each simple yet masterful stroke, a painting of many colors was unfolding, the beginning of the Inquisition being recorded. Birds chirped in the rays of dawns light that filtered in through the high windows of the library and into the rotunda below, the fortress still quiet before the outburst of day. Eowyn had not yet talked to him since they got there, kept busy overseeing repairs and going over letters of inquiry from nobles that had heard the Inquisition and it's Herald, now Inquisitor, still lived. As he concentrated on the painting, he paused for a moment, remembering with a small smile a scene he had witnessed the day before. There was a stone wall that had fallen near the gates, and after several hours of dwarves arguing with the human engineers how it should be repaired, Eowyn and Cassandra finally got exhausted of their debates and begun to pick up the stones and rebuild it themselves. The dwarves and humans both stared in shock until Eowyn looked up with a smile, saying, "Have you arrived to an agreement yet?" After looking at one another, some grumbling beneath their breath, they joined in the rebuilding of the wall, finally coming to an agreement. With renewed focus Solas dipped the tip of his fine brush into a bucket of green paint, adding it to the image of the Inquisitor upholding her hand to the sky with the mark alive and sparking. The wooden platform he stood upon rose above the ground a good five feet, the whole painting taking up the space of that section of wall, from floor to ceiling. Carefully he added each detail, the outline of her form and the sky coming into being. 

"That's obviously the Inquisitor," Dorian's voice chimed, disrupting the quietness of the hour. He leaned against the library's entryway, holding a steaming ceramic cup of tea between his hands. Above, a few scholars were at work in the library, the rustling of pages and scratching of pens creating a peaceful ambiance with the singing birds. Solas didn't even look over his shoulder, concentrating on his task while he spoke.

"It is where the Inquisition began. And so I will record until it comes to it's completion."

"So you'll be sticking around for a while."

"Yes."

"Because of her?"

"Because of how I can assist the Inquisition." He looked over at Dorian now, his face giving nothing of his true feelings and intentions away. "Understand that I do not stay because of any feelings you imagine I may posses for the Inquisitor. I merely am a useful asset to them. When it is over, rest assured that I will be gone when my help is no longer required." He turned back to his painting, bending to dip the brush once more in the colorful mixture.

"You're such a cheery fellow," Dorian said dryly. "I best be off and let you do your, well, whatever it is you do to "assist" the Inquisition."

Solas nodded, lifting up his hand to brush one more stroke upon the wall, ignoring the ache that came into his heart when he considered leaving the Inquisition. And her.

Later, as Solas took a stroll in the evening light, he walked past the small market place that had been set up in one area away from the barracks and stables. Merchants sold their wares, from armor to Orlesian dresses, calling out to anyone who would give them heed. He looked curiously at one table that held new books from Val Royeaux. Shuffling through the piles of books, surrounded by the murmuring of people's voices and the scent of perfume and spices, he came upon something that caught his eye. A leather journal, with feathery light pages within. It was clasped shut with a hook, it's borders engraved with flowery trails and in the middle, a symbol of entwined knots forming a perfect circle.

"That's fifty silvers, sir," a woman's tilted Orlesian voice said, interrupting his study as his ran his fingers across it's cover. As he held it, he remembered the Inquisitor remarking how she recorded their journeys, and a plan formed in his mind. 

"I'll take it," he said, taking out the coins from a small pouch tied to his belt. Handing the coins to the raven haired woman that had too much cream plastered on her face, she smiled broadly at him.

"Thank you, come again," her voice followed him as he turned with the book tucked securely beneath the crook of his arm. 

~*~

One day, when life at Skyhold was setting into a routine of repairing in mornings and training in evenings, two people on horseback approached, galloping across the bridge of stone. 

"Horsemen approaching!" A guard that stood upon the watchtower yelled down to Cullen below in the courtyard. 

"Who is it?" Cullen asked, now wearing a light chainmail that protected his skin. He ran up the spiraling stairs to the watch towers platform, his lungs not even heaving for breath when he reached it's peak. 

"I don't know," the guardsman said, upholding his hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun on the horizon. A brisk wind swept through the air, stinging his pale cheeks. 

The horsemen slowed down as they approached, one of their dappled grays neighing as it reared up to the sky. A woman's voice yelled, "We have come on business for the Inquisition!" Instantly recognition dawned upon Cullen's face at the sound of her voice.

"Open the gate!" He then turned to one of the guards standing next to him, "Go tell Varric his friend's have arrived, he will want to know." The guard saluted smartly, did an about face, and jogged down the stairs Cullen had just climbed up. Running across the courtyard, he ran up another set of stairs that led up to the main castle hall. Bursting into the main halls doors, a few heads turned in his direction as he strided over to Varric, whispering in his ear. Immediately Varric scooted out of his chair, following the guard outside and leaving his letters of business on the table, forgotten. By now the gates of Skyhold were shut again, and the horsemen, one revealing herself to be a woman, were dismounting in the courtyard. With dark hair wound into a tight bun, she turned around, handing the reins to her green hooded companion when she saw the dwarf. "Varric!" She cried out as she ran towards him, giving him a tight hug. He smiled as he patted her back awkwardly. 

"Now now Keira, what did I say about not drawing attention?"

She let go of him with a sheepish smile, her purple cape blowing in the breeze. "How can I resist giving my favorite dwarf a hug?"

"No one can resist, it's our charm. How's Serena?"

Her eyes brightened at the mention of her daughter. "She's amazing! I mean, I'm sure everyone would say that about their children, but she's very smart. She's already beginning to read. Last week she was getting into Ander's manifesto's." 

Varric chuckled. "Give her a hug from her favorite dwarf." He then looked behind her with a small frown when he noticed her companion. "I see you brought Blonde along."

"Now Varric," her gaze turned serious, "please don't give him a hard time, he's had it hard enough as it is." She glanced at who they were talking about, her violet eyes hiding things she would never say despite her previous light behavior. "And don't let Cullen know, he'll chase us out of Skyhold if he knows he's here." 

Varric nodded as he cleared his throat. For a second the hooded man's and Varric's eyes connected, unspoken words passing between them. "Follow me, one of our guard's can take your horses." He turned around to the same guard who had called him earlier, one who thankfully didn't recognize his old friend. "Take these horses and put them in the stables. And leave their packs on their horses. Thanks." The guard saluted again, hiding a rolling of his eyes at being ordered about like a lackey. The hooded man handed over the reins to the guard quickly, coming to follow the dwarf to a side door that opened into another towers spiraling stairs.

"Hawke," Cullen called out before Keira could enter, striding towards them with a small smile as he exited a towers doors. 

"Cullen." She smiled warmly at the former templar as she turned around. "I see things have changed for you, I'm glad."

"Not as glad as I. What are you doing here?" He crossed his arms and looked at her curiously, his eyes hiding his worry at her being there. For her own safety, and others. 

"Straight to the point as always, huh?" She said with a smirk. Varric and the hooded man had already disappeared into the stone walls of the tower and away from Cullen's sight.

"I always am. Not that I'm trying to be rude, I'm just wondering."

"Varric had sent a letter to me a couple of weeks ago, informing me of Corypheus. We've met him before, and he thought I could be of assistance to the Inquisitor. And now I'm here."

"Who's with you?"

"Fenris. We didn't want to be recognized after what happened." She said calmly and quickly, and Cullen did not doubt her. 

"I'm sure discretion is wise. If you want me to I can provide rooms that are private for your use." 

"Thank you, but after we meet the Inquisitor we're leaving. Don't want to risk being seen after what happened."

"Of course. You know tensions between mages and templars as they are, and we have a mixture of both here. We try to keep the peace, but you can only do so much." He nodded his head in agreement while he spoke, a slight furrow coming to his brow while remembering the incident in Kirkwall. 

"I agree. The less people know I'm here, the better."

"I'll tell the Inquisitor you're here, I'm sure you want to meet her as soon as possible."

"Thank you, it's good to see you again." She added with a smile, holding out her black gloved hand for him to shake. He shook it gently, a genuine smile on his face.

"You as well, Hawke. I'll see you before you leave."

She nodded, turning around to disappear without anyone's notice as she slipped behind the wooden door.

~*~

"So," Varric begun as they walked up the stairwell, "you've been keeping her safe, as you promised?" He didn't look at his hooded companion, his eyes boring holes into the stone steps they walked upon. 

Blue eyes stared at him intently from beneath his hood. "I would die for her, every day if I had too. I will never allow any harm to come to her, or to Serena."

"As long as you can keep them safe Anders, I won't bring up the past, though I won't forget it." Varric warned, turning his head to look at him.

"I wish I could change what I did, but I can't." Sorrow hung upon Ander's words, but Varric's face remained hard as stone. Ever since the beginning of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall, people had been quick to accuse the Champion and wish for her to be brought to justice, for events one human could not possibly control. Already being in that compromising position, having her mage husband Anders blow up the Chantry didn't help her situation. As soon as the battle was finished and an end was brought to Meredith's treachery, they abandoned everything they had built up for their lives in Kirkwall and became refugees, riding into a safe place that no one but Varric knew, taking their daughter Serena with them. Her siblings Bethany and Carver wished to stay behind, helping their mother and father rebuild the ruins of the city. Even now, after two years of rebuilding, Kirkwall was only a shadow of it's former self, the mighty city it once had been just a faded memory in the footprints of time.

"No, you can't. We were friend's Anders, but I can't support what you did. Nor can I remain friend's with you. I'm only talking with you still because of Keira." Varric said brusquely. 

"You have every right to treat me this way," Anders replied softly. "I'm a monster. And I should be treated as such. Keira is far too merciful, and Serena doesn't understand my true nature. Justice."

They walked on in silence, the only sound being their footsteps echoing against the stone walls, the sound of a friendship coming to an end.

~*~

"Leliana told me that you believe I can use my mark to kill more enemies. I thought it was only useful for closing rifts," Eowyn spoke to Solas as she entered his rotunda that same evening. He turned around from his desk, his eyes hiding his surprise and secret delight that she was there.

"You're mark, as you know, is unusual. I have never seen anything like it. As I studied the other day, I came upon something for a mage that I thought would be useful for your mark. Focusing more on the mark may allow you to kill more enemies when there's an open rift. Though I would use caution. Using the mark like that will draw more energy from the Fade, and it will kill demons but may draw more to us. Or if you missed and hit one of us instead, I do not know what type of damage would be done."

She nodded solemnly. "Could you teach me? There's really no one else to teach me to do such a thing."

"We'll have to wait until we encounter another rift. But yes, I will teach you. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She smiled. A moment of silence passed while she looked around the room. "You've cleaned up nicely."

"Thank you." 

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a moment later Cullen strided into the room. "Inquisitor," he said with a dip of his head towards her, "there is someone here to meet you. She's with Varric at the eastern tower."

"Thank you Cullen, I'll go meet them immediately." She turned to Solas with a slight smile, "Nice painting." Spinning around, she walked swiftly out of the door into the main hall of the castle, disappearing from Solas' sight. After Cullen followed her, Solas walked over to his desk. Picking up an object that was wrapped tightly with a paper covering, he wandered down the candlelit halls and stairways to the bedroom of the Inquisitor. Leaving the mysterious object upon her desk, he exited quickly and quietly, as if he had never been there. A single red rose was laid across it, one petal falling to the ground gently in the breeze from the open doors.


	21. First Meeting

Eowyn tread the stairs quickly, skipping every other step to reach her destination sooner. Cullen had left her after he delivered the news, perhaps expecting the meeting between Hawke and her to be private. No matter. She was eager to make the acquaintance of the Champion of Kirkwall, the one who stood between mage and templar for peace; finally forced into combat when Meredith gave the order to slay countless innocents without cause. And still Hawke was labeled as a disturber of the peace, the one who caused it all when the tides of fortune forced her to be cast upon it's waves. Similar to how Eowyn was burdened with the mark upon her hand and blamed for the murder of thousands. However, as her fate had turned out, it was better than it may have been in the beginning.   
  
These thoughts wound through her mind as she skipped up the last step. Pushing open a heavy wooden door that stood on the northward side of the room, that was empty of guard's because of Cullen's orders, she came upon the castle's walls. Varric stood facing her direction, while a man with his head covered and a taller woman were standing with their backs against her.   
  
"Eowyn, I'm glad to see you have joined us," Varric welcomed with a smile while he beckoned her to come closer with his hand. As Varric spoke the woman turned around, her violet blue eyes subtly assessing Eowyn while the edges of her lips upturned in a friendly smile. Eowyn walked closer, her eyes doing the same.  
  
"I'm pleased we could finally meet, Varric has told me much about you."  
  
"Good things, I hope," Eowyn replied with a small smile.   
  
"Varric only says the best about people," Keira said as she walked towards Eowyn with her hand outstretched as a gesture of friendship.  
  
"Apparently you haven't read my books," Varric murmured as he rubbed his neck with one hand. Eowyn took the Champions hand and shook it firmly.   
  
"It's because most of them aren't worth reading," Keira whispered conspiratorially to Eowyn. She then straightened, becoming formal once more. "Well met, Inquisitor. This is Anders, my husband." She motioned to the hooded man that came to stand by her side. He lifted up the edge of his hood as it came to fall upon his broad shoulders, revealing sandy blond hair that was tied back from his brow, autumn colored eyes that had visible creases around their edges staring at her curiously. Bowing, he smiled. "Keira always drags me along. Pleased to meet you, Inquisitor." Varric looked on, his face almost grey and solemn. He then shook his head, as if to clear his head from the cobwebs that clung to his mind.  
  
"Ah come on, everyone sounds so formal. This isn't one of Josie's political meetings after all." He walked forward with his arms crossed, a smirk pulling at his mouth.  
  
"You're right, Varric, but she is the Inquisitor." Keira said as she looked down at her shorter companion.   
  
"And I'm a merchant. Plus an author. Everyone has a position somewhere." He shrugged his shoulders, as if positions didn't matter and everyone was on the same level. If only he'd met some Orlesians, they might make him reconsider that statement.   
  
Keira just rolled her eyes at her friend. "My friend, how I have missed your wise words!"  
  
"She's right," Anders said with a teasing smile at his wife, "she cries herself to sleep every night because her trusty dwarf isn't there."  
  
Eowyn watched with a smile, intrigued by their conversation. Although there was a mask of smiles, there was tension lying beneath between the three of them. And, after having read the Tale of the Champion and how Anders actions caused so many to perish, she knew why. How could one forgot such an action that a friend caused to occur?    
  
"Anyhow, we are not here to discuss pleasantries," Anders spoke seriously while he crossed his arms against his leather breastplate. "We came to tell you what we know of Corypheus."  
  
"Varric said that you all fought Corypheus before," Eowyn said, crossing her arms while she awaited what Hawke was to tell her.   
  
"Fought and killed. The Grey Wardens were holding him, but he somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them." Keira said, her dark eyebrows furrowed together.  
  
"Corypheus got into their heads. Messed with their minds. Turned them against each other." Varric added, shaking his head slightly in remembrance.  
  
"If the wardens have disappeared, they could have fallen under his control again."  
  
"It would be easy to have that happen," Anders added with a shudder. "I remember what he was capable of making me do last time we saw him."  
  
"Which is why you shouldn't have come with me," Keira said, her eyes hiding pain as she looked at her husband and took his hand.   
  
"Don't worry, I won't let him do anything like that to another warden again." He squeezed her hand tenderly, though his eyes seemed to burn with a zeal no one could quench.  
  
"If that's what's happened to the wardens, do you think we can free them?" Eowyn asked, trying to ignore the tenderness between the couple.  
  
"It's possible. But we need to know more first. I've got a friend in the wardens, he was investigating something on the matter for me. His name is Alistair. The last time we spoke he was worried about corruption in the warden ranks. Since then, nothing." Keira said, looking back at Eowyn, her raven hair blending in with the darkness that was descending around them.  
  
"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks. Did your friend disappear with them?" Varric asked now.   
  
"No. He told me he'd be hiding at an old smugglers cave in Crestwood."  
  
"If you didn't know about Corypheus, why were you investigating the wardens?" Eowyn added, tangling a strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid around her finger.   
  
"The templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium. It was red. I'd hoped the wardens could tell me more about it."  
  
"Corypheus had templars with him at Haven. They looked like they'd been exposed to the lyrium you described."  
  
"Hopefully my friend in the wardens will know more."  
  
"I appreciate the help."  
  
"I'm doing this as much for myself as for you. Corypheus is my responsibility. I'd thought I'd killed him before. This time I'll make sure of it."   
  
As dusk settled over the snowy mountains and the moon rose above them, Anders touched Keira's arm gently. "We should go if we're to avoid anyone's notice."  
  
"Yes. We're staying in a small village to the north of here."  
  
They walked down the stairs and to the stables in silence, Anders placing the hood over his head once more, to avoid anyone's recognition. Saddling their mounts, he settled on his black mount before nodding at Eowyn and Varric in farewell. Cullen walked in at that moment.  
  
"I saw you exit the tower. I shall have the guard's open the gate for you."  
  
"Thank you, Cullen." Keira said, holding the reins of her horse between her gloved hands while she ran a hand over it's mane absentmindedly.   
  
He bowed his head, then exited quickly without a word into the darkness.   
  
"Farewell Inquisitor," Keira said as she mounted her steed. "We will meet you at Crestwood in a week's time."  
  
Eowyn rose her hand in farewell, "Dareth shiral, Champion."   
  
"Varric, take care of yourself." Keira added with a small smile.  
  
"You too, Violet."  
  
Without looking back, they galloped across the courtyard. The gates creaked open wearily, the moon shining across the bridge before them. The horses hoofs thudded against the ground, soon disappearing into darkness of night. Varric and Eowyn watched silently for a moment, before Varric murmured tiredly, "I better go attend to my letters of business."  
  
"Goodnight, Varric."  
  
"Goodnight Sparky," he said as he walked away, leaving her alone beneath the stars and the cool air of the mountains.   
  
A few minutes later she walked up the long staircase to her bedroom. A brisk breeze blew in from the doors as she walked over to shut them. Moonlight poured in through the windows on her while she lit a candle, setting it on her desk. While she did so, she noticed a brown package wrapped tightly with a rose laying on top of it. Curiosity overcoming her, she gently took the rose away and untied the string. As she unwrapped the brown packaging between her small hands, when it fell away she smiled, touching the leather journal gently as she traced it's patterns. Not knowing who it was from, she unclasped it's hook to look inside, seeing one word inscribed in elvish that set her to wonder.  
  
 _Ma'Vhenan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most interesting chapter I know, but meh, it's over with. Although I couldn't resist using the little bit of Elvish at the end. :p
> 
> Ma'Vhenan~My Heart.


	22. A Forgotten Prince

The scent of horse flesh and manure filled my nostrils as I entered the stables at Skyhold, quiver strapped onto my back and bow slung over my shoulder. Dawn had just arisen over the earth, and the night before I had given orders to Solas, Varric, Blackwall, Iron Bull, and Dorian to meet me there to prepare to move out to the Stormcoast at first light. Setting down my pack of supplies I held in one hand for my saddle bags, I lifted my un-gloved hand to slide along the smooth oak of the  stall doors, a soothing feeling passing through my fingertips. I passed creatures of all kind: bog unicorns, chargers, harts, everything one could imagine emerging from a fairy tale. I could scarcely believe it myself that I was here to witness these things. A smile pulled at my lips as I remembered the incident from a few months before, when we had been at Master Dennet's to collect him and the horses. I had been stubborn when it came to riding, remembering sorely well the feeling of getting my leg twisted when I fell off of a hart years before. Solas had ignored my ways of avoiding it, forcing me to sit before him on one of the most graceful yet huge creatures I could think of riding. Perhaps I'm over-exaggerating, but harts had always terrified me. I didn't want to ride one. Not then, not ever! So, trying to keep my pride in place I jumped upon the hart. It was terrifying! But he was right behind me. Holding me so close I could listen to the beat of his heart, he placed his arms around me, guiding the halla into a slow trot then into a gallop. The fear slipped away, leaving an exhilarating feeling in it's place. I don't know how else to describe it. I felt like I had wings, sailing beyond the clouds. And we were  _so_  close. Never before had I been that close to someone. Especially a man I then noticed was, well, indescribable. Had I known then what I was slipping into, what trouble lay ahead, perhaps I would have been tempted to retrace my footsteps. But if I had, I would have missed out on the adventure that lays with every sacrifice in life. And I would have missed  _him,_  his touch, his heartbeat.

"Fenedhis! Don't think those things," I muttered to myself when I realized the path of my thoughts. "It's not your right or place, Eowyn." Vaguely I thought of Varric's words, of Solas' kiss. Coming to a stop in front of a mare's stall, I rested my chin upon the edge of the stall door, staring into her crystal blue eyes that were surrounded by a black outline, a white mane cascading over her sheer white coat. She whinnied at me softly in greeting. "Aneth ara lethallan," I greeted in return as I held out my hand. She nickered softly, rubbing her velvety muzzle against my palm. "Aren't you a sweetie, not like all the others around here." Glancing round the stalls I made certain I was alone. Satisfied when no one came into sight, I turned back to her. "Though there is one who is especially nice," I added conspiratorially. Propping my right elbow upon the door, I rested my chin on it while leaning in closer, whispering softly. "He's very nice, very much my type I would say. But I can't just think of myself. I have a brother I must return for once this war is over, I can't fall in love with a man who will never settle down for someone like me. But it seems he may love me. He kissed me once." A shiver ran down my spine at the memory of him pressing his lips against mine before running off to his death, to save me. To save the world. I could  _never_  let that future come to being. Since that day I vowed to devout myself to the cause, to end this corruption. Sighing, I failed to notice soft footsteps entering the other doorway.  

  
"She's beautiful."  
  
I jumped, almost banging my head against the mare's, who backed away at my near assault. "Fenedhis!" Turning towards the voice I saw Solas, dressed in black robes with his staff in his hand. Leaning it against the doors he watched me curiously.   
  
**"** Ir abelas dal'en, I did not mean to frighten you," he said politely, though I could detect a hint of amusement in his voice. "One of the hunters of the Dalish failed to catch my scent?"  
  
Embarrassment made my face redden and I leveled my gaze back at him, staring into his eyes that looked grey in the pale morning light. "Hardly Hahren. I was merely having an intense conversation with this mare about which saddle bag to choose for the journey." Nonchalantly I turned back towards the mare, mouthing,  _"that's him."_  
  
"So you're doing this after all." Walking over, he leaned against the stall door. Nervously I concentrated on the mare, hoping against hope he would not see what he did to me on the inside. Still the question Varric had asked me loomed above me: did I love him? He stared at me, seemingly studying me intensely, causing a shrinking feeling to descend upon me.   
__  
"And what do you mean, Solas, by doing 'this?'" I asked calmly, forcing myself to turn my eyes to his. And a little spark of hope lit inside of me. Did he remember the last incident as well as I? When we so close and flying with the wind? Could I even hope for such a thing as love when the world was doomed around us?  
  
"Riding, of course."  
  
"I have to if we're to meet the Champion and the Grey Warden in time." Sensibly, of course it was the right thing to do.   
  
"Ah, so you have overcome your fear of the beast," he said with a smile and I could not but help smiling in return. "Have you chosen a steed?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Well," he turned towards the mare, rubbing her neck and speaking in soft Elven tones that I could not decipher. "You should choose her. She's well trained, you should have no trouble. She's the best one Master Dennet owns, and she will not abandon your side in battle."  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
"Stardust."  
  
"Very well then. Stardust," I turned to address the horse, "you shall be my very own war horse." Stardust nickered softly, as if she knew who was her new mistress. "Who have you chosen?" Turning to Solas I smiled, and he hesitated in answering as he stared into my eyes.   
  
"Solas?" I asked hesitantly, not sure of myself nor what I should do.   
  
"Y-yes." He shook his head as if to clear his mind from the thoughts wounding inside his  "I have chosen Banal'ras." He turned and walked briskly to a stable across from us. A stallion, black as night with a mane as thick as a forest, stood there restlessly in his stall. Restlessly he pawed his front hoof against the ground, eager to surge into battles of legend. Banal'ras. Shadow of the night.   
  
"He's beautiful."  _Majestic, brave, and heroic_  were also a few words that came to my mind to describe the creature before us, but I decided against mentioning it.   
  
"He is. Perhaps not the most well trained stallion, but he will be soon. They found him wild in the woods of Redcliffe." Solas leaned forward, and speaking softly he calmed the beast. I could not help but stare in awe.  
  
"He just wants to be free. Like a bird in a cage that has yet to test it's wings. He wants to fly." I said, taking a few steps closer to him and his steed.  
  
"Is that not how many feel?" He said as he turned, looking down at me.  
  
Staring into his eyes as stormy as a thundering sky, I answered. "Depends on the bird. Some prefer the cage."  
  
"But not you." He took a step closer towards me. I was tempted to take a step back, but I stood my ground. Not because I was afraid of him, I was afraid of myself.   
  
"No." I replied as I stepped forward, now only a breath away from him. My heart beat faster beneath my breast as he took a step closer, and I had to tilt my head to look into his eyes, the gateways to his soul. His face, his lips, were so close, so tantalizing. The urge to come closer until there was no wall left swelled within me . . . until someone's voice broke the spell.  
  
"There you are. Oh, hello Solas," Dorian said as he came in, stopping and looking at us curiously. I stepped back quickly from Solas, picking up my supplies and walking over to the saddles that were hung up in a corner. Dorian watched, then shook his head, as if he were imagining things unreal. "What time is it? Do you think there's time for some tea at this unearthly hour?"   
  
"I'm sorry Dorian, but I think we must be moving soon." I said, concentrating on putting my clothes and other supplies in my saddle bags. And within the minute everyone left of our company appeared. As I went to put on the saddle on Stardust, Solas appeared by my side.  
  
"Allow me," he said quietly as he took the saddle from me. Easily throwing it upon her back, he took the straps and cinched it around her waist. Putting the other tack in place, he turned to me. "Do you need assistance?"  
  
"No," I shook my head, unwilling to look like a helpless maiden. "I can manage."  
  
"Ma nuvenin," he replied, stepping away to his own steed to mount. Grabbing onto the saddle horn and placing my left foot in the stirrup, I hoisted myself upon her back. Stardust didn't move a muscle, as if she knew the nervousness of her rider. **"** Ma serannas," I murmured quietly as I held on to her mane tightly. My heart was beating faster now. Not from anticipation as but a moment before, but from treading into the unknown. Slowly I moved my hands to the reins and took them gently into my hands, afraid of spooking her.  
  
"Come on Sparky, she's not going to kill you that fast," Varric said as he trotted his small pack pony past me. It was a comical sight, with his armor and bianca upon a brown pony that acted as if it were ten times it's size. 'Tiny' was the title he bestowed upon it.   
  
"Yeah, right." I said, almost to reassure myself as I gently flicked the reins and she stepped forward, through the stall door I had opened moments before.   
  
"You'll be alright, dal'en." Solas said as he sat astride Banal'ras, waiting for me.   
  
"Right, right." Touching her gently again she walked forward. Slowly I walked her outside the stables, and once I made it onto Skyhold's bridge, I finally managed the courage to urge her to a trot as the wind whipped wisps of hair about my face; unaware that Solas followed me with a smile upon his lips.  
  
~*~  
  
The sky was overcast and grey, rain drops splattering the stone walkways below. A company of six on horses made their way through the storm, cloaks wrapped tightly about their shoulders and hoods hung over their heads. Slowly they progressed up a winding trail among piles of stone, a sheer cliff surging into blackness beside them.  
  
"How much farther Boss?" A gruff voice asked, muffled by the wind as his horse slipped on a stone. It fell, hitting every other stone on it's tumble down into a deep cavern below them. He glanced down with a grimace, nudging his horse closer to the wall of rock next to him, away from the gruesome fall.   
  
The figure leading them smiled to herself beneath her hood, though her lips were chapped from the cold. "Tired already Bull?"  
  
"Never," he said with a laugh and a broad smile.  
  
"Our scouts reported a rift not much farther ahead. We must take care of it before we find shelter in order to prevent more corruption to spread here."  
  
"You mean demons, Sparky?" Varric asked from his pony at the back of the group.  
  
She sighed. "I was trying to say it delicately in order to not scare your fainthearted souls."  
  
"Right." He shifted uneasily in his seat. "I always hate dealing with this shit."  
  
"Doesn't everyone?" Solas asked. Riding Banal'ras, they blended into the winds of storm around them.  
  
"If anyone liked it I would bet on you Chuckles."  
  
"Don't bet you're money so quickly, Child of the Stone."  
  
Eventually the trail wound up higher and higher, until they crested the mountain. Bull sighed with relief, looking back uneasily at the cavern they had left behind.  
  
"All the way up here and the scouts didn't set up camp? Delightful," Dorian muttered beneath his breath as he urged his horse forward next to Eowyn in the field they were now in. "How much farther anyway?"  
  
"Shouldn't be much farther. I've been here before with my father, I know these lands."  
  
"So that's why you took us the scary way!" Varric said with surprise, as if he had figured out a great mystery. "I've been puzzling over this the past few hours, I'm glad you told me."   
  
"Just for you, my trusty dwarf."  
  
Two miles ahead they encountered the rift the scouts had reported, glowing a sickly green against the stormy sky. Urging their horses onward as lightning flashed and thunder roared, the battle began. Pulling out their swords they slashed their way through the lines of demons that rushed towards them. Quickly they disposed of them. And Eowyn, lifting up her hand to the swirling sky, let the mark connect with a burst of light. With the crack of thunder and sky, the rift sealed.     
  
"Just another day in paradise," Eowyn said as she sheathed her sword, her face grim with blood smeared across it.  
  
"A twisted idea of paradise, if I may say," Blackwall stated as he sat astride his dappled steed next to her, sheathing his own sword and shield upon his horse.  
  
"Well, there are no restrictions on freedom of speech."  
  
"Yet. I feel Cassandra may create one any day now," Varric said. "She's been wanting to kill me ever since she found out I knew where Hawke was."  
  
"Well," Eowyn said as she urged Stardust on a path to a cave that she had stayed in before, "if she does we'll just not listen."  
  
"You know Inquisitor," Varric smiled broadly, "I like the way you think."  
  
~*~  
  
Within the hour we reached a mine that had been abandoned for years long past. Sitting in it's own corner of the earth and hidden behind piles of stone, it was unreachable only to those who did not know where it laid. I watched the Inquisitor curiously as I held onto Banal'ras' reins. Walking over to where she had dismounted Stardust, I began speaking to her.  
  
"Have you heard the tales of Grey Wardens flying in on griffons to save a world overcome by Darkspawn?" Tilting her head up at me, her eyes flickered with curiosity at my words. "As the land was dark and grey, and no hope was to be seen, they would fly in before the setting sun. Even though they were out numbered with no hope of survival, somehow they would arise victoriously. And then they would fly into the horizon, none waiting to be thanked for their sacrifice." I paused, staring into her swirling blue eyes that were darkened by the mine around us. Never before had I imagined I would fall for a mortal, one of the children long separated from the true people. But I  _could_  not fall, I could not. Glancing away for a moment so I could continue to speak, I looked back down at her. And as always occurred, my words flew away with the wind.  "I suppose I can see the origin's of such tales. You and Stardust are soon to start some of your own. And I will have been privileged to witness it with my own eyes."  
  
I meant those words, no matter how she affected me.  
  
As she brushed Stardust's mane, she lowered her eyes, seemingly shy in my presence. Then she spoke, her voice calm. "You are kind to say such things sir Solas. I hope to prove myself to the world."  
  
"You already have proved yourself. At least to me."  
  
With those words I lead Banal'ras away, before I did something foolish.   
  
Later, after camp had been set and the night watch been assigned, I laid down my head upon my pillow and dreamed. The world as all know it faded away into darkness, then light ebbed back to my eyes. Green light stretched out it's fingers, faint wisps upon the wind. More light came, sunlight, clear, pure. Then my feet were firmly standing upon solid ground, grass forming, trees rising. Birds sang their songs in the trees while wisps danced in the breeze. Turning round I saw a woman standing in a white gown, pure, unblemished, with sleeves that dragged upon the ground and the back trailing behind her. Flowing black curls framed her tall cheekbones, and she smiled when she recognized me.  
  
"Aneth ara Fen'Harel," she spoke clearly, the notes of her voice seeming to echo around her.  
  
Smiling with the same goodwill, I greeted her. "Aneth ara lethallan."  
  
"Na sahlin ne garas?" She asked, and I smiled to be conversing in the ancient tongue of my people that were now gone.  
  
"Ir isala dirthara."  **  
**  
"The mortal," she said, reading what was written deep within my soul before I had spoken.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Falon, long have you dwelled alone for thousands of years. Now your soul must awaken from it's sleep."  
  
"I cannot just abandon my people!" I said, beginning to pace before her. "They are lost, like children without their parents. But they do not listen to my teachings!" I sighed deeply and stopped my pacing. "No matter how much I try to show them the truth of our origins, none hear it. They choose to be lost."  
  
"Haven't they abandoned you?" She countered. "The Elves no longer remember the days of old. Only a few know the past of distant dreams."  
  
"If they knew who I was they would kill me. I did it for them, but destroyed my people. I need to make it right." I hung my head in shame as I remembered my downfalls for my people. And they lost everything. Because of rebellion.   
  
Because of me.  
  
She took a step closer to me, placing her hand on my cheek and forcing me to look into her eyes that glowed with light. "Vallem Solas, lasa ghilan Lavellan. Garas ma'vhenan." Pausing she stared intently into my eyes. "But beware, sorrow follows your footsteps."  
  
"Ma serrannas falon." I said, placing my hand over hers that disappeared into thin air.   
  
Slowly the realm of dreams disappeared and the real world took it's place.  
  
~*~  
  
At dawns light they set out for Crestwood to meet Hawke and Alistair. After three days of riding to the east, at last they arrived in Crestwood. The land was dark and grey, a few Inquisition scouts dotting the landscape.  
  
"Inquisitor!" A scout yelled as he galloped towards them. Eowyn held up her hand for the company to halt. The scout's horse brayed as he pulled back on the reins, bits of dirt flying up as it's hooves skidded to a halt.   
  
"Scout Malloy," Eowyn acknowledged with a bow of her head.   
  
"Inquisitor." He nudged his horse forward to stand next to her white mare. Leaning closer to her he whispered, "The Champion and her companion rode here not two days past, and desired to only leave word for you to meet them at a cave to the west, not far from here." Reaching a hand into his overcoat, he pulled out a worn piece of parchment. "These are the directions."  
  
She took them from him, nodding. "Thank you Malloy. Report back to camp, I and my companions will find them. I believe you already know to be discreet."  
  
"By your orders Inquisitor." He straightened, saluting smartly before urging his steed into a gallop past them to the south.   
  
"Any news Sparky?" Varric asked, concern evident in his eyes for news of his long time friend.  
  
"Yes," Eowyn pulled on the reins, turning back towards her companions. "Hawke and Anders rode here two days past, leaving a map to the cave where this Grey Warden awaits. You should have more answers to your questions, Blackwall.," she added, looking at the Grey Warden.   
  
"Indeed. I need the answers to what has happened to my companions."  
  
"Then let's not get any more soaked in this weather, shall we?" Dorian asked, as a big drop of rain splashed onto his nose.  
  
"Let's hurry, for Dorian's sake," Eowyn said with a smile as she tucked the map away. Galloping away once more, the horses hooves thundered upon the earth.  
  
About three hours later, she slowed down her horse as they wound up a trail. Large brush encased them on both sides, brushing their legs as they rode past. Tugging her map open, she said absentmindedly, "We're almost there."  
  
"Thank the Maker," Dorian muttered beneath his breath. A few minutes later, as they crested the hill, a small opening to a cave opened up before them. Slowing their horses to a stop, they all dismounted, all stiff from the riding.   
  
"Hello," a voice greeted cheerily. Stepping out from the shadows from the cave's entrance, the mage Anders lifted off his hood. "I'm glad you arrived safely, times are dangerous around here. Never know what will happen these days."  
  
"You got that right Blondy," Varric stated flatly. Anders jaw twitched slightly, but made no reply at his former friend's insinuations.   
  
"Keira and Alistair are inside, awaiting your presence."  
  
"Very well," Eowyn said. "Dorian, Bull, you two stay out here and guard the entrance."   
  
"Whatever you say Boss."  
  
Walking into the cave that was surprisingly free of moisture, Anders lifted up a torch ahead of them as he guided them inside. Eventually they reached a room that glowed from candle light, with a table with maps spread out upon them and Hawke and a man in armor were bent over it, studying it carefully.   
  
"Keira, they've arrived."  
  
Turning around she welcomed them a smile. "Excellent! I'm glad you've all arrived." The one in steel armor turned around, the Grey Warden symbol emblazoned on his chest. His face was worn from war and toil, but when he smiled he appeared much younger in years.  
  
"As am I. I am Alistair, of the Grey Wardens."  
  
"And this is the Inquisitor and her companions," Keira said.  
  
"Are you the Alistair who fought the Archdemon with the hero of Fereldan? The one they said was Prince Maric's bastard?" Varric said, always eager for the gossip.  
  
"I need to change my name," he said with a small smile. "Yes, that was me. War, betrayel, darkspawn. Oh, lots of fun! And made for excellent stories I'm sure. Nobody cares about that anymore now, I answer to Warden Commander Clarel now. Like everyone else."  
  
"So you were a forgotten Prince! Fascinating!"  
  
"You better not get him started, or he'll write a book about you, too." Keira said with a smile. "It's good to see you again Varric."  
  
"Isn't it always?" He smiled roguishly but then turned serious. "Anyways, I better let Sparky speak her piece."  
  
"Most of you Wardens disappear, then I run into a darkspawn magister named Corypheus. Do you think the one might have something to do with the other?" Eowyn spoke up, staring intently at him to decipher any of the questions concerning the Wardens.   
  
"When Hawke killed Corypheus the wardens thought the matter resolved. But Archdemon's don't die from simple injury. I feared Corypheus might have the same power, so I started to investigate. I found hints, but no proof. And then not long after, every Warden in Orlais begun to hear the calling."  
  
"Is the calling some sort of Grey Warden ritual?"   
  
"Well, Wardens are tied to the darkspawn. We're connected somehow. And eventually that connection poisons you. You get bad dreams, and then you start to hear the music. It calls to you, quietly at first. And then so loud you can't bear it. At that point you say farewell and go into the Deep Roads to die fighting." He paused, then added solemnly, "In death, sacrifice."   
  
"And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now? They think they're dying."  
  
"Yes, I think Corypheus caused this somehow. If all the Wardens die, who will stop the next Blight?" He started pacing back and forth in agitation, before turning back to look at them. "That's what has them so terrified."  
  
"So Corypheus isn't calling them, he's bluffing them with this calling. And they're falling for it." Keira said solemnly, her brows furrowed as she came to stand beside Anders.  
  
"Is the calling he's using real, or is he mimicking it somehow?" Eowyn asked.  
  
"I have no idea. Before all this I'd barely heard of Corypheus. I didn't even know he was supposed to be a magister at all until I started digging around. Right now, all that matters is the Wardens are acting like they're going to die."  
  
"You said that all the Wardens are hearing the Calling. Does that include you? And you Blackwall?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes. When I'm talking or fighting I can almost ignore it. But whenever things are quiet, I can hear it. It's like a song you can't get out of your head. Damned annoying frankly."  
  
"I do not fear the Calling," Blackwall said. "Worrying about it only gives it power. Anything Corypheus does will only strengthen my resolve."  
  
"So what do we do?"  
  
"I saw what the Blight did to Ferelden. If the Grey Wardens hadn't stopped it there'd be no more Thedas. Warden Commander Clarel proposed some drastic things, blood magic and such, to prevent further Blights before we die. I protested, maybe too loudly. And Clarel sent guards and now, well, here I am. Wardens are gathering here, in the Western Approach. It's an old, Tenvinter ritual tower. I'm going to investigate . . . I could use some help."  
  
"Very well, I'll meet you there in five days after we refresh our provisions at Skyhold." Eowyn held out her hand. "Good luck."  
  
Alistair shook it. "Same to you. These are most troubling times."   
  
"My husband and I will be with him," Keira spoke up. "So we will meet again."  
  
"Always trying to help people," Varric said. "If you do it too much it will lead to trouble."  
  
"Aren't I always in trouble?" She replied. "After this I must get back to Serena. Who knows what trouble she's getting into."  
  
After saying their farewells, they departed. Riding hard back to Skyhold, they reached it that evening. Cassandra was at the gates, and begun to run towards the approaching company. Eowyn slowed Stardust to a halt. "What is it Cassandra?"  
  
Her face was pale and grey as she answered her, taking a moment to catch her breath. "It's your clan. They've been killed by the Red Templars. Your brother was captured."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long period of no posting, it has continued! :o And I hope somewhat of a cliff hanger. Another quest has begun! Hopefully the different perspectives weren't confusing.   
> Elvish I used:  
> Fenedhis! ~ A common curse.  
> Aneth ara ~ A sociable or friendly greeting, more commonly used among the Dalish themselves rather than with outsiders. Literally: "My safe place".  
> lethallan. ~ Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar. Lethallin is used for males, while lethallan is used for females, but this is not always the case. Akin to "cousin" or "clansman" since "lin" is the word for blood.   
> Ir abelas dal'en. ~ I am sorry little one.  
> Hahren ~ Elder.  
> Banal'ras ~ Shadow.  
> Ma nuvenin ~ As you wish.  
> Ma serannas ~ My thanks.  
> Na sahlin ne garas? ~ Why now have you come?  
> Ir isala dirthara. ~ I am in need of truth.  
> Falon ~ Friend.  
> Vallem Solas, lasa ghilan Lavellan. Garas ma'vhenan ~ I bid you, Solas, give guidance to Lavellan. Follow your heart.


	23. Temptations Of Red

I stared at her, stunned. My heart dropped into my stomach, as fast as if one of Elgar'nan's lightning bolts had struck me. Were Cassandra's words true? My village, my people, were all dead?

"How did this happen?" I asked numbly, the feeling of being punched in the stomach and all breath sucked from my lungs overcoming me; so much I felt as if I might fall into the darkness of oblivion.

"One of our scouts rode in this morning." Cassandra said, glancing at the ground before she looked into my eyes, brown eyes reflecting her sympathy. If I were in her shoes I would have hated to bear such a message. "Red Templars. He said there were no survivors."

There was only one thing I could do.

Pulling on the reins, I turned Stardust round and begun to gallop back across the bridge. "Wait!" They yelled, but I ignored them. I had to return to my village. I had too. Before I believed what anyone said, I had to see it with my own eyes. The wind whipped against my face and burned my cheeks as I urged her faster by digging in with my heels. All sense of thought or reason left me that moment, leaving only one dangling thread in its stead.

My brother.

"Eowyn!" I heard a familiar voice call, but I ignored him instead as I pushed Stardust as fast as she could take me. The trees and meadows blurred past, much as my life would be if I lost him. A blurred image never to be seen clearly.

"Eowyn, stop!" Bela'naris surged forward, his head aligning with my mares. Reaching out his hand, Solas pulled on the reins, slowly forcing Stardust to a shaky halt. Bela'naris halted alongside her, their flanks covered with a sheen of sweat and breathing heavily.

"How dare you!" I fumed, staring at Solas, whose face remained a mask of calm.

"Before you begin to think ill of me, Eowyn, I urge you to listen to reason. It is no accident that the Red Templars captured your brother, or that they slaughtered your village. They were sent by Corypheus' orders. He wants you to fall into his trap. And he will kill you." He spoke hastily yet carefully, his eyes begging me to understand. His hands had left Stardusts' reins while he spoke; and I had not noticed it before, but while he was speaking his hand had wandered to mine, grasping it gently. I stared at his slightly freckled yet pale hand a moment, before lifting my head to steel my gaze with determination.

"You know I cannot," I whispered, hoping my eyes would convey my decision. How could I leave my brother behind? "Ma'serannas Solas for your concern, but I will not abandon my brother."

He did not look surprised at my words, but instead stated firmly, "Then I will follow you, no matter the danger."

At his words I almost breathed a sigh of relief. To know he would be by my side was some sort of comfort at least. "We must go now!" I couldn't help but try to keep a sense of urgency about the matter. He nodded in agreement before saying, "But not alone. The rest are coming with us, Cassandra had them prepare." Before he had finished speaking, a group of horses emerged from the other side of the hill. Sera, Cassandra, Dorian, Bull, Varric, and Blackwall's heads bobbing above their horses. Their horses hooves pounded against the earth, crescendoing into a final staccato symphony as they neared us.

"You took off fast, didn't ya?" Sera's voice chimed when she tugged on the reins of her dappled grey. It lifted it's head and snorted, having to make as much an entrance as her master.

"I didn't ask you to come with me."

"You don't need to. Where are we riding?" Cassandra said with a slight smile, her scarred face softened by the effect. Though I sort of tried to dissuade them, I was thankful they were here. It might keep me from certain death, I thought to myself.

"We head south about a days ride, and," I paused, taking in a deep breath, "we will find what remains."

It was then I noticed Solas' was gone.

Digging my heels into Stardust's flanks once more, she set forth into a run. The others weren't far behind.

Hours passed as we rode. Finally, we reached a meadow that wasn't far from my home. The grass waved golden in the setting sun's light as we passed, bits of dirt flying up from the horses hooves. Casting my eyes upward, I held back a strangled cry, throat dry and heart beating out of proportion. Even from miles away the fiery red was visible against the sky, smoke billowing above the trees in an endless stream.

No, no, no, the words wound themselves through my mind over and over.

Soon we crossed the grassy hill that only a few months before I had said farewell to Tethera. Never had I thought I'd return in such a way. The unmistakable scent of burning flesh and smoke reached our nostrils, and I covered my nose at the stench. Rushing across the familiar paths through the trees that passed by in a haze, I pulled Stardust to a halt before the clearing. Burning aravels and forgotten bodies were cast upon the earth.

What once was my home.

"No!" I finally cried as I jumped off Stardust. I stumbled forward, avoiding burning embers that still glowed menacingly. Not noticing where my feet were going, I tripped over a charred log. Landing on my palms, I ignored the bruises and looked upwards. A child's hand laid inches from my face, fingers slightly curled inwards. I scrambled quickly to my knees and clutched her wrist, fingers probing; hoping for some sign of a pulsing heartbeat. I hung my head. There was none. Her arms and legs were twisted at an odd angle, her face smudged with dirt and a trickle of dried blood on the corner of her mouth. Huge grey eyes were wide but lifeless, the cause being a gaping red wound upon her chest. Taking off one of my gloves, I gently closed her delicate eyelids that would never smile under the sun again. "May Falon'din guide your soul," I whispered. My fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into my palms. How could they do this? Attacking our forces at Haven was one thing, but attacking a helpless village was another. We had hunters, but not enough to fend off an army. And Red Templars . . . I shivered at the thought, holding back the tears.

Pine needles snapped, bringing me quickly back to reality as Solas crouched down next to me. "Who was she?" He asked gently, placing a hand on my quivering back.

"Her name was Anreen." I whispered, turning to look into his grey eyes that held a disturbing resemblance to hers. Briefly I wished I could be held in his arms, but I couldn't. Not now. I had to face this. Steeling myself with the resolve I did not feel, I stood up. Surveying the clearing that was nothing but charred wood, I steadied my voice. "Search for survivors. After that we track the bastards who did this and repay every single one for what they have done." Behind us Dorian fell to his knees off his horse, retching.

"But-but . . ." Dorian begun, resting his hands upon his knees, his breath shaky, "the bodies, shouldn't we at least bury them?"

"No. We must move on or we'll lose them." With that I walked away, calm on the outside but inside I was crying like a helpless da'len. I will say no more. Even to this day I'm still haunted by their faces in dreams.

There were no survivors.

As night begun to darken the sky, I mounted Stardust. Nodding to the others to move out, we easily tracked the many footprints of the Red Templars. We left the burning embers behind, but my heart didn't, couldn't. The only thing that was keeping it from shattering into a thousand pieces was the thread of hope that Tethera and Tamel still might be alive. Their bodies were not in the camp. But that thread could easily snap. I wanted to shut my eyes tightly, curl up in a corner and pretend it was all a bad dream. Could this really be happening?

Even the rest of my company was somber and silent after seeing that destruction. Though he was behind me, I could feel Solas' eyes boring through my back the whole time. What was he thinking? Could he see through the thin veil of steel I was weak? That every nightmare of fear I ever had was coming alive?

We had to move slower through the trees, making the journey last longer until night begun to fade away into dawn. Rays of pink sunlight stretched across the clouds, visible from the mountain we were steadily climbing. Just as my hopes begun to waver, a spark was returned to ignite the flames.

"Inquisitor!" Blackwall yelled from up ahead where he'd been scouting. Motioning with his arm urgently, he said, "You might want to see this." Tapping my heels against Stardust's flank, she half trotted, half galloped, to where he was.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to contain my eagerness. He was holding a piece of torn green clothing gingerly between his gloved hands.

Handing it to me, he said, "It was on the tree."

I held it between my hands, unable to resist a flicker of hope. It was of Dalish make. It had to be a piece of Tethera's or Tamel's clothing. The Red Templars mainly wear armor anyhow, right?

"We must be catching up to them. Come on, let's go!" Soon the winding trail spiraled to it's final peak on top of a cliff. The dawn shone brightly upon us as we crested the rocky surface, a cave's opening yawned before us. Spikes of red lyrium stood out of the ground, lighting up the darkness of it's depths.

"We must be careful," Cassandra whispered as I dismounted my horse. I shivered. It was still cold. Glancing up at the swirl of pink and orange clouds, I could make out the north star slowly fading. I remembered almost with a smile the words my father said, his blue eyes slightly crinkled at the edges as he smiled. "Always let the north star guide you dal'en. It will never lead you astray."

"This obviously is a trap." Blackwall added, crossing his arms.

"I know." I grabbed my bow, placing an arrow on it's string. The stars and my father's words would never abandon me. "That's why I'm going in alone." They all gaped at me, too astonished to speak.

"You-you cannot do that, Inquisitor," Cassandra sputtered as she leaped off her horse, using my title to remind me of my importance. I simply didn't care.

"Yes. As Inquisitor, I order you to watch the caves entrance." I spun around on my heel, taking a step towards life or death.

"No!" I was jerked back by the crook of my elbow. Looking up I saw Solas' hand gripping my arm. His eyes were wide. Alarmed, terrified. "You cannot throw your life away like this! Let us help you."

"Chuckles is right," Varric said as he jumped off his pony. He unhooked his beloved crossbow Bianca from his back. Holding her in his hands, he caressed it. "Besides, Bianca's looking to put some bolts in the bastards that did this."

"Someone has to stay. We can't leave the cave's entrance unguarded." That was the last argument I could think of. I wanted them to come with me, but I couldn't lead them into certain death. It was a death trap, one meant for me. I couldn't allow more innocents to die on my behalf. My whole village was dead. Because of me. Because of who I was and what I represented. If only all of this hadn't happened . . .

"I'll stay," Sera spoke up now. "Call me a coward, but I don't want to go into that cave. It's too . . . creepy."

"I'll stay with her, make sure no one hurts her." Blackwall added. "The rest of you better hurry before it's too late."

"Hey, who says I need protecting?" She squeaked as she held her bow between her hands. glaring at Blackwall.

"No one," Bull said with a smile, "you might poison them with your cookies if you did." She made a jab at him as he chuckled to himself.

Solas released his iron grip off my arm, relief filling his eyes and voice. "Then it's settled. Lead on, Inquisitor."

Nodding solemnly at them to convey my appreciation, I turned round. No Red Templars dared to stand in our path.

The cave reeked with the scent of rotten flesh. We had no need of torches, there was enough glowing red lyrium to see adequately. Varric kept shifting uncomfortably every time he neared the stuff. Surprisingly, we met no enemies. There was a scuffling noise once, to which Varric, Dorian and I turned round and shot. It was simply a rat. Poor thing never stood a chance.

This is definitely a trap, I thought to myself when we came through another room and there was nothing to be seen. The cavern walls slowly turned to a carved stone hall. Strange white markings were scattered in sprawled lettering along the wall. Two huge wooden doors stood sentinel at the end of the hallway. A cold wind blew down the cavern, sending chills up my spine as the stones seemed to creak in silent whispers.

"Bull, open the door," I whispered as I tightened my grip on my bow, "we'll cover you."

"Sure thing Boss." Sheathing his ax on his back, he approached it slowly. He probably felt as much hesitation as I. Whatever trap laid in wait for me surely was beyond those doors. The rest of us stood back, prepared for the worst. My heart was beating hard against my chest, filling my ears with the sound. Surely everyone could hear it. I nodded to Bull. Clutching the handles with his massive arms, they slowly creaked open. Another room loomed open before us. It was empty save for a stone table in the center of the room. Something, someone, was lying on it. Slowly we moved in closer, caution echoing our every footstep. Strands of auburn hair were hanging off the sides, stark against the grey stone.

"No!" I shouted, throwing aside my bow as I ran towards her. A massive explosion blasted me backwards when I neared her. My body slammed into a wall, blackening my vision for a moment. Falling back onto the floor, my cheek rested against the cold surface. All I could hear was a ringing buzz, then a taunting laugh. It was gruff, low. Sliding my palms against the gritty stone, I slowly tried to stand to my knees. Exhaustion was overcoming me. Drained of emotions, lack of sleep. Lack of hope. I just wanted to lie down and forget everything.

"This is how you will always be, mortal." The laughing voice turned serious. "Bowing before those who are higher than you will ever be. You will always fall before me. Your fate is death . . . unless you accept what I have to offer."

I pushed myself to my knees. I will not give up, I will not give in, I told myself. My brother needs me. My brother needs me. Bones cracked and groaned in protest as I stood to my feet. Corypheus stood behind Tethera, caressing her pale cheek with his gnarly twisted hand. The nerve! He still looked the same as he had at Haven, crusty armor almost burned into his skin, red lyrium coursing through his veins; becoming a part of whatever creature he was. If he was once a man, nothing humane was left.

"Your friend resisted. Like you, she does not think I should rule this world." His red eyes bored into mine, his hand leaving her cheek. "Heresy!" He yelled, slamming the stone table with his fist. The walls and ground shook, causing me to stumble once more. Thankfully I was still standing. If he even snapped his fingers my life could be snatched away, as easily blown out as a candle in the dark. "But you will listen to what I have to say."

"Why would I do that?" I replied, standing as tall as I could.

"You have a brother, someone you do not want to lose. The only way you can save him is by taking his place." He paused and looked at me. "His salvation lies in your hands."

"And if I resist?"

"He dies. And your friend will never awaken." I glanced at her, shocked. Was she not dead? Was not everyone dead? "Oh yes," he said, pleased with himself at my expression, "she's alive. Under an ancient spell that only I can awaken her from. If you join me, they and your companions both live." I glanced over my shoulder at them. They were all alive, thank the Creators, but not in the condition to fight. There was no way I could win this, no way I could save myself with them. Solas was regaining his feet, and for a fleeting moment I wished I had taken Varric's advice. To have given Solas a chance, to have given love a chance. Now I would never know what love was like. Images flashed before my eyes. From the very first time he held my marked hand to close the rift before I even knew his name to how he held me close against him riding the halla, the feeling of his lips briefly brushing against mine own before he ran to his death, holding my hand earlier when grief was threatening to overtake me. He would, he had, given his life for me. How could I not do the same for him and everyone else? Staring at my hand that was glowing slightly green with my stirring emotions, I lifted my chin and glared at him. I would not give up my defiant spirit even in defeat.

"You have a deal. I will take his place."

He smiled, the crusted edges of his mouth making him look more grotesque. "It is done." And everything went black.

~*~

No! Solas thought numbly as he crawled to his feet. She was gone. That blighted creature had taken her. Somehow there had to be a way to save her. He stumbled forward to where Tethera lay on the stone slab. Grabbing her wrist he felt for any sign of life. A faint pulse beat against his fingertips. He almost sighed in relief.

"Where are they?" Bull questioned as he gripped at his side and walked slowly towards him. Possibly a cracked rib Solas numbly noted.

"They are gone. I do not know where." He hung his head. He had taken it upon himself to protect her no matter what befell upon them, and in a moment of time she was gone.

"Is there any way we can find them?" Varric asked, worry creasing his brow. Even the dwarf had lost his calm. The dim glow of the red lyrium seemed to have lost it's intensity after Corypheus departed.

"I-I may be able to be of some assistance, though it might not work." Solas said, resting his hands against the stone. He could go into the Fade, try to find his friend or Mythal. Yes, Mythal might know the answer! Turning to the rest of his companions he said, "I'm going to see if someone I know in the Fade knows the answer. She might be able to help us find them."

"Talking to spirits in the Fade? Creepy." Bull said with a shiver as he unsheathed his ax. "Ugh this is going to hurt later."

"You do that, we'll keep watch and make sure no one gets to you." Varric brushed dust off of Bianca. "Besides, I need some payback since he's dinged up Bianca."

"Very well." He sat down cross legged on the stone, lying his staff across his lap. He gripped it tightly, hoping with every fiber of his being he wouldn't be too late. Closing his eyes, everything went black. Slowly, whispers of green begun to thread across his vision, the Fade forming before him. Forests of trees and ancient ruins laid beneath a clear sky. Wisps flew in circles past him and birds sang from their nests. Climbing past fallen stones, he passed a carven stone in the shape of a wolf. Fen'harel. Steps formed before him as he jogged up them, to where once tall doors and marble pillars had stood in the temple. He closed his eyes tightly. "Mythal, Mythal!" He called urgently in his mind, hoping against hope his old friend would appear.

Wind blew against him, stinging his cheeks and whipping his clothing about. He opened his eyes. Before him a woman stood, armored clothing flush against her skin. Hair white as snow framed her face, a few wrinkles mapped across her skin showing her age and wisdom. Amber eyes stared into his grey ones.

"I knew you would call. You should not have given the orb to Corypheus, Dread Wolf."

"I was to weak to unlock it after my slumber." He looked across the forests of what used to be his domain. "But that is not why I have called you. I need your help. The Inquisitor, Eowyn, she was taken by Corypheus. I do not know where, but I must save her!" He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Please, old friend, help me. You are the one she worships. You're her protector. Please, help me find her."

"I cannot always intervene for those who follow us. After all, what are we but powerful mages?"

"But the People have hope. She believes you will protect her. Can you not help?"

She sighed, crossing her arms. "Alright. He's in the middle of the Deep Roads-a castle, heavily guarded by the Red Templars. You cannot go by yourself."

"Thank you." His hand left her shoulder as he turned around to leave.

"You care for this mortal." Her voice made him pause. "Is that truly wise? She does not know who you are after all." She crossed one foot in front of the other as she stepped towards him. "Be careful my friend. Love and war are dangerous games."

"I cannot help what I feel. Even if it means my death." His voice was quiet as he took another step forward. He wouldn't let her die, not if he was there to protect her. She had become important to him. More important than he could have imagined. No longer could he deny truths long ignored.

"Don't do anything foolish, old friend." Her voice echoed against the fallen stones.

With a grim smile he answered, "I cannot make any promises."

Suddenly, at his will the fade disappeared and the lyrium infested cave appeared before him. He opened his eyes. They glowed slightly green. Everyone was anxiously waiting, holding tightly onto their weapons, tapping their feet-everyone wanting to do something. Anything. They were all caught in this web, helpless to find the fly taken by the spider.

But he knew where to find her. The spider would soon be caught in his web.

 

~*~

I groaned. Opening my eyelids slowly, all I could see was blackness. Brushing my hand against the cold stone, I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Patting where my knife usually was, there was nothing in it's place. Great. Placing both hands in front of me, I braced myself as I pushed myself upwards. Stumbling forwards I reached out my hand in front of me, trying to somewhat guide my steps. Steel bars cold as ice brushed against my fingertips. I placed my hand on it, trying to feel for an exit. Walking along the perimeter, I realized . . . I was in a cage. It just kept going in circles. I stood there, grasping the pole tightly between my fingers as if it were a lifeline. "Hello?" My voice wavered in the darkness, sounding small and weak.

There was no answer.

I slid along the bars to the ground, scrunched between my legs and the steel. It was cold, so very cold. I hugged my legs to my chest, shivering. Closed my eyes tightly. Wishing none of this was happening. Maybe my brother is safe, I thought. Just . . . maybe. A deal was a deal, right? Even if they were made with freaky old mages. I let out a sigh into the frosty air as I leaned my head back against the steel, vaguely wondering if there was light I could see little cloud puffs with each breath. But I was certain of one thing: that this wasn't the end. Corypheus would have more extravagant plans for me, not just leave me to rot in a cell. He'd probably make my death public, wanting all the world to see. Something not to look forward to.

Time seemed to last for an eternity. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. I never moved a muscle. Perhaps I dozed off, for the next thing I noticed was a bright red light shine above me. Almost blinding. Lifting my hand I shielded my eyes, the other hand gripping up a bar to force myself to my feet. I would not die on my knees. That I had vowed long ago.

Then, just as suddenly, everything went dark.

"Eowyn?" A small voice whimpered.

"Tamel!" I cried, running forward. Gripping both of the bars on the ceiling I stood to the tip of my toes, straining my eyes to see. A sliver of red light remained, shining on a small boy kneeling in chains. His clothing barely hung on him, tattered strands being all that remained. "Tamel!" Slipping my hand through the bars, I stretched my fingers as far as I could. He reached to my hand, the chains clanging against each other with each movement. Tear stains were visible on his cheeks. Our fingertips barely brushed against one another's.

"Help me." His voice was quiet. So quiet. A plea barely spoken above a whisper, his voice scratchy from lack of water and food.

"Don't worry Tamel, I'll get you out of here. We'll go to Skyhold. You'll be safe." I choked back a sob on each word. How could I make sure he was safe? How . . . who will watch over him after I'm gone?

"I'm so scared."

"I know, I know. Can you do something for me?"

He sniffled. "O-okay."

I gripped his fingertips as best as I could. "Just be brave. I know you are. Promise me."

"I promise."

He would be okay. He could live without me. "I love you. Remember that, okay?"

"I will."

A door slammed open, echoing throughout the room above me."Take the boy away," a gruff voice said with a sneer.

"No! No!" I cried helplessly as I tried to hold onto his hand. "Eowyn!" He screamed as his fingertips slipped from mine. I grabbed the bars, pulling them with every ounce of strength I had left. The guards left, slamming the door shut behind them as the sound of his chains faded into the distance; blackness again engulfing me. I stared hopelessly at the bars above my head, tears forming into a sob as I placed my hand over my mouth. Was this truly happening to me?

"Everything you love has been torn from you." Corypheus' voice pierced my skin sharper than the cold, echoing from up above me. I looked up again at the ceiling, trying to contain my emotions. Screams bubbled up within me, dying when they reached my tongue.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

"Because no mortal shall ever stand against me."

"How can you say that?" I yelled with a mirthless laugh. It was ironic, really. "You say no mortal shall ever stand against you, but they already have! The Inquisition is filled with men and women willing to die standing against you! You think you've won? You've already lost!"

A low, growling noise seemed to precede my words. "Silence!" The walls shook, dust falling off of them and onto the ground as the bars rattled creakily.

"You want to kill me? Go ahead, you already have! Get it over with!" There was nothing but silence. "Come on!" I screamed, shaking the bars. It echoed off the stone and rang in my ears. "I'm already dead." I whispered as I let go of the bars, falling back on my heels. "Everything has been taken away." At that moment I knew Corypheus would not keep his word: he would kill my brother and leave Tethera to lay in a dreamless sleep for eternity. And . . . Solas . . . my companions would die. Everyone would die because I couldn't save them.

And he would let me watch them before he killed me.

Time seemed to drift in endless circles. I huddled in my corner, shaking. Disbelieving what was happening. Water dripped slowly somewhere farther away. The dampness of the air was soaking through my armor into skin. My whole body shook from the cold. Or my emotions. Either one, really.

Eventually I heard a sound far off, faint, yet I was certain I heard it. It was a groan, a dying man's groan. I stood up weakly, wishing I had something to resist whatever evil was coming my way. There was nothing but eerie silence.

"Eowyn?" A voice questioned crisply minutes later. A voice I recognized. I ran forward, grabbing the bars.

"Solas?"

"Eowyn." He sounded relieved. A faint green light begun to glow, lighting his hand up. I could make out his face, his brow furrowed in concern, the cleft in his jaw. His cloudy grey eyes. "Eowyn, are you all right?" He came towards me, placing his hand over mine. Warmth seeped from his into mine, giving me goosebumps.

"He-he has my brother. He's going to kill everyone Solas, I can't, I can't-" I was on the verge of hysteria, glad to see a familiar face yet aching to save that which I already lost.

"Sh, sh." He squeezed my hand gently. "Let's just get you out of here first. Stand back," he commanded. I stepped back a few steps. More light begun to gather at his hands while he drew them back. "Farther." He said. I went clear to the other side. Almost as if he were pushing something, he shoved his hands forward as a great force burst the bars that were my prison. Walking forward quickly, he grasped my hand. "Quickly! We must leave now!"

"But, we can't leave him behind!" I clutched his arm wildly, staring into his eyes. I could not go through this just to lose my brother again.

His eyes told me the truth before he even spoke. "I'm sorry Eowyn, but he's already gone. Only death waits for us if we try to retrieve him. You must survive!" He paused, his next words softly spoken. "Ir abelas, but you are to important to die a needless death."

"Needless?" I knocked his hand from mine as I spoke angrily. "It's needless to save my brother?"

"Eowyn," his hands moved to both my shoulders, gripping them tightly as he tried to shake some sense into me. "I saw him die with my own eyes. I tried to save him . . . but I could not. I am sorry."

The world seemed to spin and fade around me as he clutched me to his chest, speaking words I couldn't hear. I held onto him tightly-afraid I would be left behind if I let go. Before a drop of sand would have fell in an hour glass, we were back in the room where Tethera lay. I let go of him. I couldn't afford to be seen as weak in front of my companions. They all looked relieved to see me, but I avoided their searching gaze.

"Let's get her out of here," I said quietly, "before they come back." We couldn't have long. Carrying her between Solas and Blackwall, we soon left the cave. Outside it was night. The north star was hidden behind the clouds.

By the night of the next day we were back at Skyhold. We rushed Tethera inside, Cullen greeting us worriedly. No doubt my actions caused him troubles.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked as Solas and Blackwall carried her on a stretcher between them. Her face was ashen, her shock of red hair billowed around her still form.

"Corypheus put her in some cursed sleep. We don't know how long she's been out, but it's been a few days at least." I ran my fingers through my now crusty hair. All I desired at that moment was a bath and a bed. Any would do. "Bull will need to see the healers, he's got some cracked ribs or something."

"I'll fetch our best healers and assign them to her care. Bull will be taken care of as well." He placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes offering reassurance. "She will be alright, you have my word. Meanwhile you go and rest, we can't have our Inquisitor pass out in the middle of Skyhold, can we?" He smiled slightly and I smiled faintly back. "I will watch over her."

"What about your other duties?"

"I can do both. Now go." His hand left my shoulder as he followed Solas and Blackwall to one of the healing rooms, Bull trailing behind.

Ignoring Solas' last concerned glance over his shoulder, I dragged my feet up the long steps to the main hall; slipping past everyone in the shadows. Coming to my room I didn't even make it to the bathing part, falling on my bed. Mercifully sleep claimed me.


	24. Into The Fade

The fire crackled comfortingly in the confines of my room at Skyhold. Flaming colors bursting red and orange as they entwined. Instead of sleeping on my bed the night before-that was so soft and fluffy compared to what Dalish normally used-I grabbed some furs and blankets, spreading them on the floor in front of the fire to consume it's heat. I had closed my eyes, only to fall into fitful dreams. Nightmares. The screams of my people haunted me in the darkness of night, no star shining bright enough to drive them away. Often it would be the last cry I heard my brother utter. _Eowyn._ It would repeat itself. Over and over. Often I would wake screaming. My only hope was that no one else heard me.

Three days and nights had passed since my village was burned. Tethera still lay in her coma, unable to be awakened. It somewhat comforted me that the most reputed healers in the Inquisition were in charge of her care, and that Cullen had said specifically that he would watch over her. He was a good man, Cullen. Someone I could trust.

Yet I couldn't make myself leave my room. My companions were constantly knocking on the door, trying to persuade me to let them in so they could comfort me. But I didn't want their comforting lies. I wanted to be alone.

Eowyn, Corypheus' voice seemed to call. Echoing in my mind in an endless chasm of darkness.

Abruptly I sat up. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead, though I shivered as if cold. Grabbing the edges of my wool blanket I pulled them around me. Just a dream, just a dream, I repeated the mantra in my head.

It just seemed so real.

Throwing off the blankets I blindly searched in the dim light for a candle. Brushing my hand against one on a side table, I fumbled with it as I lit it with shaking hands. The small flame danced and glowed before my eyes, tantalizing. Setting it down on the table, I grabbed a green robe from my bed. First slipped in one arm, then the other. Tying the belt securely around my waist I begun to pace the floor. Out of habit fingers curled around a strand of my blond hair, twisting and turning. There was no way I'd be able to go back to sleep tonight.

My brother was dead. How could I ever forget that? How does one simply move on? His screams and tears will be burned into my memory for as long as I draw breath. Leaving him was the hardest thing I had ever done. Tears gathered beneath my eyelids as I closed them tightly. He was mine to protect . . . and I failed him. And my clan. The only one left to save was Tethera, but what if she never awakened? And if she did, what would she think when I told her everyone was dead? That I failed them. I failed them. Tears begun to bubble over and run down my cheeks. Letting out a strangled sob, I buried my face in my hands.

Fingers tangled up in my hair, I realized I had to do something. Sniffling, I brushed the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand. No doubt my eyes were bloodshot. Evidence to the world that the Inquisitor was weak. "Get a grip on yourself," I muttered. My brother was dead. There was no way I could bring him back. The only thing I could do was seek revenge for the deaths of my people.

Then I knew what I had to do.

Grabbing my leather armor that was laying where I had cast it aside when I had returned from the journey, I threw off my robe and tossed on the armor. There was no time to grab clothes. I had to do this now, before anyone knew I had left. Placing my quiver across my back, I grabbed my bow that hung over the fireplace.

A wolf howled in the distance.

Tip toeing down the stairs into the great hall, I felt like a child getting into sugar in the middle of the night. Now if only the parents wouldn't wake up. Well, the guards and everyone else in this whole castle. I peeked my head into the hall, making sure the coast was clear. There was no one to be seen. Walking down the hall, I didn't notice a chair and crashed into it, sending it on somersaults across the room. The sound echoed throughout the hall then died dismally. "Fenhedis," I whispered beneath my breath. Continuing on my rushed pace, I paused before the door that went into Solas' room. He always got up early. Would he listen to me? What would it be like to have him there for me, to . . .

No. He would not see me in my current emotional state. Besides, he probably didn't want to hear another Dalish's problems. We had caused enough trouble for him already. Moving past the great hall doors, I stepped outside. The stars were dying in the early morning, dawn just barely visible on the horizon. I breathed in the fresh cold air. It filled my lungs with it's coldness, goosebumps prickling on my skin. I went across the quiet grounds to the stables. In just a few hours it'd be bustling with activity. Too much activity. A guard walking her rounds nodded at me as she went past, mumbling "Inquisitor." I nodded in acknowledgment.

The familiar smell of horse flesh greeted my nostrils as I entered the stable while they neighed softly in greeting. Master Dennet would be out within the hour to feed them. "Hey Stardust," I whispered when I reached her stall. She nickered softly, nuzzling my outstretched hand. Not bothering to grab a saddle I snatched a harness and reins, slipping it past her muzzle and over her ears. Opening the stall door, I jumped on her, barely tapping her sides to tell her to go. Trotting out of the stables and into the beginning of dawn, we galloped to the gates I ordered a guard to open, and disappeared without a trace.

It only took me a few hours to find the right place.

The dirt was cool against my fingers as they scraped through the ground, a small hole forming. Granted, it wasn't the most efficient way to do this, but my mind hadn't been clear enough earlier to have the sense to grab a shovel. Dirt wiggled it's way beneath my fingernails, though I ignored it. I could clean those later. I stopped for a moment. My breathing was slightly heavier than usual. Leaning back so I was kneeling, I vainly tried to wipe the dirt off my hands on my armor. Little puffs of breath were visible in the mid morning air. I swiped my cheek with the back of my hand to try to wipe away evidence of tears, but instead left smudges of brown scattered across them. Tangles of blond hair blew about my face gently with the crisp breeze. I sighed. This was so far from home, so far from where my hopes and dreams had lied. Yet, with a twist of fate, I was brought here.

Turning I grabbed the uprooted tree I found earlier while wandering the woods. I held the small weeping willow gently between my hands, and smiled slightly. It was perfect. All it's branches were bare, save for one wispy leaf on the bottom branch. Within time, it would grow to be a strong tree, towering above all others. Carefully I placed it in the hole with both hands, set it upright, then begun to swipe piles of dirt gently around it. I took my time. The tree was a symbol for my people, for the ritual was performed when life was lost. Life coming from death. This was sacred. And things that are sacred must not be rushed. I kept the tears at bay while doing this. After gently patting it down, I grabbed my water skin and poured around it. It would grow. I will visit it every week, I swore to myself. Standing on the grassy knoll where it would stay, I smiled. The clouds were gathering on the horizon, a storm coming with the wind. Lightning was visible, striking the earth every now and then. Thunder was gently rolling far away. But the sun was behind me.

Bowing my head, I begun to hum quietly, then grew louder and louder as it gave me strength. Lifting my head I stared into the storm, defiant. "I will fight this storm, and I will be victorious! I don't care what the world says, I'm going to fight or die trying!" I shouted at the heavens, the Creators, whoever was listening. A tear slipped down my cheek as I whispered, "I will never forget the blood of my people."

Softly, I begun to sing the tune I'd hummed earlier.

_Sun sets, little one,_   
_Time to dream_   
_Your mind journeys,_   
_But I will hold you here._

_Where will you go, little one_   
_Lost to me in sleep?_   
_Seek truth in a forgotten land_   
_Deep with in your heart._

_Never fear, little one,_   
_Wherever you shall go._   
_Follow my voice-_   
_I will call you home._   
_I will call you home._

My voice didn't break until near the end.

"Goodbye Tamel," I whispered, looking beyond the mountains where snow shimmered crystal white beneath the sun. "You will come home, I promise."

Walking down the hill to where Stardust was tied, I never looked back as I galloped away.

Once I made it back, I resolved I would be strong again. Forget the Creators, forget the Inquisition, forget everything I've held dear. I will be strong, I told myself. Alone. Ignoring the questioning stares of Varric and the others, I walked resolutely up the stairs into my room. Sitting at a vanity table that Josie had tried to make me use numerous times, I looked at my pale reflection. Huge blue eyes stared back at me, more deeper, more mature than before. Dirt still covered my face. And my hair . . . it was so long. Stretching beyond my waist in golden waves. I frowned. Unsheathing my short knife from my belt, I looked at it's steel blade in contemplation. And, before my resolve would crumble, I grabbed a piece of hair on the left side, slicing it off. And so it continued until golden strands lay all about me. I hadn't cut my hair since I was five. And it wasn't I who cut it. It was my mother. With her laughing green eyes and bubbly laughter. I cut another strand, beginning to completely shave the right side. Flashes of her lifeless body next to my father's filled the mirror. The village burning all that remained. A child's lifeless grey eyes. My brother screaming as he was taken away from me in chains.

The knife fell from my hand, clattering to the floor.

"Sparky? Sparky, are you okay?" I heard Varric's voice muffled by the doorway as he knocked loudly. He was the one that came the most to my door, trying to get me to open. Just this once, maybe I would let someone in . . .

Gripping the edges of the vanity I replied as strongly as I could. "Yes."

"Can I come in? You haven't been out of your room for days, than suddenly take off this morning without notifying anyone." The worry was evident in his voice. "Please, Sparky, just let me in."

"I'm coming." Walking over to the basin on a dresser near by I splashed the cold water on my face and scrubbed my hands with a bar of soap, vainly trying to get rid of the dirt. Hurrying to the door I opened it a creak.

"Still here Sparky, who else would it be?" He said a foot lower than me with that slight, crooked grin of his.

"Just making sure it's not some mage imitating your voice somehow." I replied dryly as I opened the door wider and allowed him entrance.

"Well, that'll be the day when that happens." He chuckled as he brushed past me, but it was tight. We walked up the little stairway to my room in silence. He stood next to the fireplace I now noticed was still going as I went to stand by him. Wonder who took care of it while I was gone. "So . . . should I comment on the hair cut?"

I bit my lower lip. "Does it look alright?"

"Yes, it does look fine though I have to admit I was worried you joined a cult or something."

I almost smiled at that.

He sighed. "Well, the real reason I'm here is because everyone is worried about you. Even Bull was asking questions. And Solas, he's been pacing around all morning waiting for you to come back. I've seen him several times come near the door in the hall that leads here, but leave. He's worried sick about you. I don't think he's even picked up his paintbrush today."

I felt a stab of regret at his words. Solas . . . he probably felt it was his fault. "Tell him not to worry. I'm alright."

Varric almost rolled his eyes at me. "Do you seriously think he'll believe that? If you want to convince him you'll have to talk to him yourself."

"Alright," I crossed my arms. "Tell him to come here than where we can talk in private. I'm not ready to greet all the faces that are out there." If things were not so somber for me right then, I'm sure Varric would have made a disparaging comment about us talking in private that would make me blush. Thankfully, I didn't even think of what it may seem like at the moment.

"Okay. I'll tell him. And Sparky," he laid his hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry." I nodded mutely at him as he walked away, his hand slipping from my shoulder without another word.

As soon as he left I unclasped the armor that clung to my skin, sinking into cold bath water I had left there the day before. Goosebumps rose on my body as I hastily scrubbed the dirt away from my skin and hair. Jumping out within a minute, I dried myself quickly while trying to search for some dress. Finding one of Josie's less decorative "Dalish" ones, I slipped into the green dress, my hands fumbling at the ties for the corset.

Three brisk knocks came from the door.

"Come in," I called while scrabbling for a brush but unable to find one. Those things always disappeared when I was around. I didn't even hear his footsteps as he climbed the few stairs that led to where I stood.

"Eowyn."

I turned around. His face was pale, making the few freckles that peppered his nose stand out even more.

"Solas."

"I see that since this morning you have acquired a new fashion. It suits you."

"Well . . . I'm glad to hear that." I folded my arms across my chest, suddenly feeling like the skin on my collarbone was too bare with the low neckline. It was making me too exposed for my liking.

He glanced down at the floor before looking to my eyes again. "How are you?"

"Better now."

"I do not believe you."

I sighed, looking away momentarily before forcing myself to look into his bluish hued eyes in the faint light. "I'm not. But what does it matter?"

"Let me help." Eyes pleading he looked almost . . . vulnerable.

"How?"

"By being here for you." He took a step closer to me. I didn't step back. "You are strong, da'len. Stronger than others I have met." He took a step closer. "I-" he ducked his head before looking back at me-"I want to show you something. It will only take a moment."

"Very well, show me." He took my hand ever so gently, and I fought the urge to snatch it away. Last time I held someone's hand it was my brother's. Blinking I tried to keep the tears back that were ever lurking in the shadows. Thoughts whirled around my mind. What was he going to do? Would he show me how my brother died? Swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat, I looked up at him.

"Close your eyes."

I closed them tightly, repressing my apprehension and slipped into darkness.

~*~

She was so beautiful, Solas thought as he caught her in his arms. When she had closed her eyes he had whispered some words that would make her sleep until he was finished showing her the Fade. Lifting her easily he cradled her in his arms as he walked to her four poster bed and laid her down gently. The covers were not even rumpled up, they just were straightened out gently. Though there was a pile of furs and blankets by the fire side. She didn't even sleep in her bed.

He had to do something to help her. She had looked so vulnerable; cheeks pale, head half shaven, and her eyes . . . they were empty shells, devoid of life.

Reaching a hand out he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He stepped away. He shouldn't be here when she woke up. Likely she would want to be alone. But . . . he couldn't make himself leave. Walking over to the fireplace he sat on the floor, crossing his legs. Shutting his eyes, he drifted off to the Fade. He would find her there.

In a matter of seconds the world of the Fade appeared before him. Bending it to his will, he was able to bring Eowyn there as the vague shapes formed into Haven from her memories.

"Why here?" Disappointment shown in her eyes as she took in the place, crossing her arms as she waited for him to answer.

"Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you." He begun to walk towards the Chantry. Snowflakes gently fell around them, floating to the earth.

"We've talked about that already." Sighing she followed him, trudging slowly through the snow.

The scenery merged into the cells of Haven, the familiar sight where he had stayed with her before she'd awoken. "I sat beside you while you slept. Studying the anchor."

Her brows narrowed together. "Yes, I know. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Patience, da'len. You were a mystery," he continued as he looked at her. "You still are. I ran every test I could imagine. Searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results."

She smiled faintly. "That figures."

The cell disappeared as they walked before the Chantry's doors. "You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade. I was frustrated, frightened. The Spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach. Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra, nor she in me. I was ready to flee."

"The Breach threatened the whole world. Where did you plan to go?" It was working, his plan to distract her from her pain as she tilted her head at him curiously.

"Someplace far away, where I might research a way to repair the Breach before it's effects reached me. I never said it was a good plan." he added with a smile. Turning round he faced the familiar sight of the Breach looming above them. Stretching out his hand he continued, "I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." Arm falling to his side he turned to face her. "I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee and then-" A flash of a memory appeared before them, him grabbing her hand to seal the sparkling rift. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture." Heart swelling at the woman before him he added softly, "And right then, I felt the whole world change."

"Felt the whole world change?" Taking a step towards him she peered at him with almost a hopeful spark in her gaze.

"A figure of speech."

"I'm aware of the metaphor, but I'm more interested in felt." She took another step closer.

"You change . . . everything." He admitted, unable to make himself step back. How could he hide it any longer? Since the moment he held her hand in her cell in Haven, everything had changed. Everything.

"Sweet talker." He turned away from her eyes, uncertain of where this was headed. Suddenly, her hand gripped his jaw, turning him down towards her as she brushed her lips against his. It was brief, only lasting a second. But it was enough to light the fire burning beneath. Pulling away, a vulnerable expression reflected in her eyes as she turned away from him, realizing what she'd just done. Heart racing beneath his chest, Solas snaked his hands around her waist, spinning her back towards him as he leaned down to continue what she'd started. It just felt so . . . right. Both of their hearts beat erratically as he crushed her to his chest. Shaking his head as he leaned back, he bent to kiss her again.

"We shouldn't. It isn't right. Not even here," he murmured against her lips before pulling back. How could he have let himself do that? It wasn't fair to her or to him. Taking a step back he tried to put some distance between them so he wouldn't be tempted to taste her lips again.

"What do you mean, even here?" Her eyes reflected her puzzlement as a finger begun to twist through her hair again. She was nervous. His . . . vhenan was timid about what she'd just done.

"Where do you think we were?" A smile pulled at his lips as she begun to look around her, realization dawning on her face.

"This isn't real."

"That's a matter of debate, probably best discussed after you wake up." She disappeared at his words. Closing his eyes the fade disappeared. Within the blink of an eye he was back in Eowyn's room. Standing up quickly he walked to her bed, sitting on the side while taking her hand. Her eyes widened as she sat up quickly.

"Was that the Fade? Or was it a dream?"

"Yes, on both accounts." Glancing down at the bed to avoid her gaze, he whispered, "I should go."

"Please, don't," her voice was a plea as she gripped the crook of his elbow. At his glance she dropped his arm quickly. "Ir abelas, Solas."

"Don't be sorry. I should be the one who is sorry." Taking her hand he squeezed it gently. "I shouldn't have let that happen."

"Why?"

"Because . . ." He stopped himself. How could he say anything without giving himself away?

"Because . . . ?" When he didn't answer her next words were rushed. "Solas . . . I . . . I don't want you to leave because you're all I have left. I tried to ignore it before, but I can't now. If you would just give me a chance-"

"It's not that, da'len." Sighing he took her hand in his as he made himself look into her eyes. "It's me."

"Oh." Her words were quiet as she stared down at the bed.

Instantly he regretted his words. "I need time to consider this." A moment later he added softly, "You are important, da'len. Please . . . don't give up."

"I'm not giving up." Her eyes sparked at him defiantly at his words.

"Get some rest. The Inquisition requires a lot of attention once your well again. Cassandra mentioned something about journeying to the Western Approach."

"I'm ready to go now."

"Are you certain-"

She held up her hand. "Solas. I need to do something. Sitting here grieving about . . . what I've lost won't help me."

Sighing, he leaned over and gently brushed his lips against her forehead. "Alright. I trust your judgement."

"Thank you. And Solas . . ." she begun as he stood to walk away. "Thank you for doing what you could for my brother. I know he isn't alive, but . . . thank you. Just know it's not your fault." Her eyes lowered as she spoke.

"I am sorry," his voice was soft as he replied, not turning to look at her as he walked away. Back there, trying to save her . . . it was either her brother or her. And the world needed her. There was only one he could save, he thought with a sigh.

It was his fault.

Back in his room he picked up his paintbrush as he stared at the wall, the image of Eowyn kissing him unable to leave his mind. She had gone through so much and still there was nothing he could do for her. Perhaps, one day he would have the freedom to love, but . . .

It was a matter for debate. One that his heart might win over his duties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish song belongs to Bioware. It seemed fitting for her saying goodbye to her brother. Thanks to everyone for reading and leaving kudos! :)


	25. Awakening

Crickets softly sang in the tall grass as I sat on a log, arms hugging my chest while staring into the small fire we had built. A week had passed since the incident with Solas. Before I had a chance to speak with him again I fled. The very same day I took a small group with me, consisting of Varric, Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Blackwall; traveling to meet Hawke in the Western Approach. Of course it didn't go without some little action occurring, and we had to fight corrupted Grey Wardens. I shuddered, despite the warmth of the air. Seeing all these men and women-good men and women, give themselves up to this radical idea that they had to answer the calling; and having them be needlessly slaughtered . . . it was horrible. A noble cause ending with tragedy. Perhaps I should have felt disgust for what they did, what measures they were taking. But I only felt remorse. Sickened for having to spill their blood with my blade. 

So much blood. So much. When would it ever end?

At night I still had the nightmares-my people's blood crying for vengeance. Leliana's ravens sent no word of Tethera awakening. Perhaps it was just as well. How could I tell her that our people were dead? How? Their death was on my hands. My brother's death on my hands. And I would have to pay the price. 

The next morning we would gallop across the lofty bridge into Skyhold. Closing my eyes I tried to discard the thought of what might occur. Maybe it was trivial for me, the Inquisitor, to be worried about the reaction of my Hahren. Of what he might think of me after I was so . . . weak. That's what it was, right? Weakness for giving in to my emotions, for displaying them on my sleeve. He was my Hahren, my elder. One worthy of respect and friendship. 

But no, he was more than that. So much. 

There was so much I didn't even know about him. Whether he had a place to call home, whether he had parents who still lived, or brothers and sisters. Despite the fact that he was the solitary type, surely there had to be someone he loved. Or at least of some importance to him. 

"What's on your mind, Eowyn?" Cassandra asked quietly as she ran a wet stone across her blade. My companions had been silent during this journey, leaving me alone to contemplate my thoughts late into the night. It was rare for that to happen, and I was grateful. Bile rose in my throat every time someone asked how I was doing, or what happened in the village where innocents were left to burn. No, I could not speak of it. I couldn't even make myself return for the burial of my village. To behold the ash and blackness, to see the broken aravels and lifeless bodies. No. Instead I sent a small party of soldiers to bury them. One day I would return and say my prayers. I just couldn't go back there, to the origin of my nightmares so soon.

"The state of the Grey Wardens. I don't know how the Inquisition will deal with them, not yet. It is something I will need to discuss with my advisers. There has to be a way to save them. It can't always end in blood, right?" 

Cassandra sighed, then she nodded in approval. "I know what you mean. I have been thinking of their case as well. Although we should consider how easily they resorted to bloodshed earlier."

Yes, I remembered all too clearly. 

"But I'm glad you are going about this with a level head. That is, after all, why we chose you as Inquisitor." Looking up at me the corner of her mouth uplifted in a smile.

After a moment passed, I asked, "What would you do Cassandra? If you were in my shoes?"

Brows furrowing in consternation and hand pausing over blade, she stared at the ground for a moment before glancing back at me. "I would consider every option. And if there was a chance for the Grey Wardens to redeem themselves without the cost being too high, I would do it. But if there isn't or if they refused, I would do everything necessary to stop them."

"Even if it meant killing them?"

"Yes, even if it meant killing them. If it helped the cause of the Inquisition and ended this madness the world has fallen into, I would do it."

"I wish I could see things so clearly. For me, all I see is grey."

"You will make the right decision in the end, I know you will."

"Thanks Cassandra."

"At any rate,"-setting down the stone and sheathing her sword she stood up-"we have to wake up early tomorrow. Goodnight, Inquisitor, sleep well."

"Same to you. Goodnight, Cassandra."

As the sound of snoring companions joined the crickets in their gentle song, I stared into the flames. No sleep found me that night.

The sun shone high in the sky as Stardust galloped across the bridge to Skyhold. Powerful muscles moving beneath me, I almost smiled at the memory of how terrified I used to be. But now I appreciated the strength, the power that resided inside her. Now, I felt an odd sense of freedom as the wind whipped my hair back from my face. 

Slowing to a trot the gates opened, a soldier yelling, "It's the Inquisitor!" As I entered peace swept over me. Whether or not I survived the battle with Corypheus, this was my home now. A sense of purpose resided here. This is where I belonged.

"Inquisitor!" a familiar voice yelled as I stepped down from Stardust. Handing the reins to a nearby soldier I turned round.

"Yes, Dorian?" He ran up behind me, his face slightly pale as he panted. 

"Your Dalish friend? She awakened not hours ago"-my heart stopped at the news-"and now is threatening to kill anyone who comes near her!" 

"She-she's awake?"

"Yes, but she tried to cut the Commanders throat out." Glancing impatiently back to where he came from, he beckoned to me with his hand. "Oh, come on, she won't listen to anyone but you."

Matching his pace we half-ran to the healers. Before entering the door where I could hear reasoning voices within, I clutched Dorian's arm. "Does she know?"

He paused for a moment.

"No, she doesn't."

Before I could stop myself, I pushed the door open as I sucked in a deep breath. This was going to hurt. 

"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," Cullen was saying in a calm voice as he held out both his hands, palms face up.

"That doesn't mean they won't!" Tethera hissed, perched atop her bed, a long knife gripped tightly between her fingers.

"Tethera! Stand down!" I yelled as loudly as I could. Head whipping around in my direction, her eyes widened as the knife fell with a thud. 

"I thought you were dead." Her voice was a hushed whisper, before she ran to where I was and wrapped her arms around me tightly. "The voices in my dreams, the-the corpses. Everyone was dead."

Closing my eyes tightly, images flashed past. Destruction, blood, death. My brother's fading screams. Wincing, I opened them again to see Solas looking in my direction. His features were drawn but his eyes held the words he couldn't say. That he was sorry, that he had done all he could. And he had. There was no way to save us both. 

"No, I'm not." Even to my ears my voice was hollow. 

Leaning back, her hands rested on my shoulders, gripping them tightly. Face pale, I noticed how her clothes barely hung on her. How long had it been since she'd eaten? How long had she been unconscious? 

Did she know?

"It wasn't real, right? The voices, the dreams? Everyone's all right?" Green eyes full of a hope that could not be fulfilled, I looked away, swallowing a lump that suddenly formed in my throat. 

She . . . didn't know. 

I had to tell her. There was no other choice left.

"Tethera,"-I forced my eyes back to hers, steeling my voice-"it was real."

"No, no no no!" Stepping back from me, her eyes widened. "That can't be, everything was fine!"

"Ir abelas Lethalin."

Limbs shaking, she fell to her knees as her voice emitted a strangled wail. I knelt down next to her, enfolding her in my arms. Cullen nodded at me as he and Dorian slipped out the door. Solas paused before he went out, opening his mouth to speak then clamping it shut again before he left. Sobs were now wracking Tethera's body. 

"Th-they're all dead?"

"Yes." My voice was numb as I stared off, eyes unseeing as I remembered our village. Our people. Our home. Gone. 

Seconds slipped into minutes and minutes into hours. When I was sure she had control over herself I stood up. Holding out my hand she took it as I pulled her to her feet. Eyes bloodshot with dark circles standing against her pale skin, she whispered hoarsely, "Ir abelas."

"There's no need. I know how you feel."

Eyes darting around the room before looking at me she tentatively asked, "Tamel?"

"Dead."

Nodding solemnly she stared at the ground. "What about the village?"

"Burned to the ground. Along with . . ."-I choked on the words-"Everyone."

Tears threatened to brim over her eyes again, tears I had been fighting this whole time as well. But I had to be strong, for her sake. For our People's sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story continues........Sorry for the delay!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bioware, and the quotes to those who wrote them. Their name(s) will be listed at the end.


End file.
